Wedded Bliss
by Tierney Beckett
Summary: Sequel to my fanfic 'The Wedding'. Chapter 15 up! Bet you thought I'd forgotten, huh? What is the family crisis? Please read and review.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own Pat, Hilary, or any of the Gardiners. Well, except for a few a may come up with on my own (wink, wink)  
  
A/N: If you're reading this, then you liked the first one. If you haven't read my first fic, "The Wedding", you might want to before you get through this. It isn't absolutely necessary, but it might be helpful. Also, in "Pat of Silver Bush", Hilary says he will take Pat to the Austrian Tyrole. I'm assuming this would require some German, but I don't know any, so there won't be any spoken. All I know, I learned from 'The Sound of Music". Not too helpful.  
  
Narrator: (just this once) We join our happily married couple at the end of their honeymoon. It is their last week of honeymoon bliss before settling into life in Vancouver. But a surprise is about to cut everything short.  
  
Pat gazed dreamily at the view before her. She was standing on the balcony of their room, enjoying the sunrise. Ever since they had arrived here, Pat had awoken early to watch the sun come up behind the mountains. It was a beautiful sight and she fervently wished Hilary would join her just once in this little ritual. But it hadn't taken Pat long to discover that her darling Hilary was just not a morning person. Much as he enjoyed sunsets and twilight, he had admitted sheepishly that a sunrise was something he had never seen. It surprised Pat to learn that this man she'd known for most of her life had a little trouble waking up in the mornings. After failing to wake him up for the first two sunrises, she had resigned herself to watching them alone. It was lovely, even if Hilary wouldn't see it with her.  
  
Therefore, she was quite surprised, but pleasantly so, when she felt two strong arms go around her waist and pull her close. Hilary kissed her neck softly, then whispered in her ear.  
  
"Good morning."  
  
"Good morning, sleepy. I'm so glad you could join me this morning."  
  
"Well, sacrifices must be made when one is in love. Even if it means sacrificing sleep."  
  
"You are indeed selfless, my lord."  
  
"I try."  
  
Pat looked over her shoulder and smiled at Hilary, who couldn't resist dropping a kiss on her nose. He was still quite unsure that this whole thing wasn't a dream. But it became a sweet reality with every passing day.  
  
They stood there together in silence, both reveling in the beauty and serenity of this place they had found themselves in. As the sun peaked over the mountains, the small little village below began to stir. Pat had been proud of Hilary's choice. Their chateau was nestled far away from bustling cities and loud 'modern conveniences'. In fact, Pat hadn't even seen a phone since they had arrived. Not even in the small village nearby. They had a post office and a telegraph office, but that was as modern as it got. She and Hilary had explored the village eagerly and were now even known by name in some of the shops and little eateries.  
  
But this idyllic situation couldn't last forever, though Pat wished it could. Next week, it would be time for them to return home. They would have to leave all this behind. She couldn't deny that she missed her native land, but to be here, away from the cares of everyday life, was so completely wonderful. A cool breeze floated off the mountains and, despite the warmth of her thick white robe, combined with Hilary's arms around her, Pat shivered a little.  
  
"Chilly?" asked Hilary.  
  
"Just a little bit. It's nothing."  
  
"Well, the rumbling in my stomach isn't nothing. I am starving, Pat. Let's go down into the village and get something to eat."  
  
"Goodness, Hilary. If you insist on eating like this once we get home, I know I'll get as big as Mrs. Binnie. Then you won't love me anymore."  
  
"I seriously doubt that," replied Hilary, leading Pat back inside.  
  
"Doubt what? That I'll get as big as Mrs. Binnie? Or that you won't love me anymore?"  
  
"Both," came the reply. As further confirmation, he pulled her close to him and kissed her. All thoughts of breakfast quickly disappeared.  
  
LATER THAT DAY:  
  
Hilary glanced around the shop. He had to admit he was a little bored. After their late breakfast, Pat had insisted on shopping for gifts for her family. Hilary had agreed. They had nothing else planned that day. The only items they had bought had been for their own home. It was only natural that Pat would want to buy some things for her family. He had enjoyed helping to pick gifts for their nieces and nephews. Finding things for brothers, sisters, and Pat's father had begun to fray his nerves. But Pat was an absolute perfectionist when it came to searching for her mother's gift. They had been looking for this one gift for nearly an hour.  
  
The shop they were in now was one they had already been in twice that day. The shopkeeper, a short, rotund little man who insisted on being called "Papa" was watching Pat with a twinkle in his eye. He liked this young couple and had tried to give them discounts on several of the items they had purchased in his store. But neither Pat nor Hilary would hear of it. As he watched Pat, he suddenly remembered that he had something for her husband.  
  
"Herr Gordon, I forgot!" he exclaimed. Hilary looked at him, clearly puzzled.  
  
"Forgot what, Papa?"  
  
"Rolfe from the telegraph office brought this over just after you had left for the second time. He and I both thought you would be back so he left it here. Now where did I put that?"  
  
Hilary was hard pressed not to laugh at the little man, who was searching so frantically for the telegram. He was digging into the shelves of the counter and, peering over it, Hilary could only see two short legs sticking out. He managed to quit grinning just in time as 'Papa' suddenly straightened up and, beaming from ear to ear, handed Hilary his telegram.  
  
But Hilary's cheerful mood did not last long as he read it. His face grew serious and his eyes darkened to a stormy grey. Pat came up behind him, clutching a beautiful hand-carved wooden music box. She put one hand on his shoulder and immediately felt his tension.  
  
"Hilary, darling, what's wrong?"  
  
"It's the office. How did they track me here? Laura's the only one who knows where I am. She wouldn't tell them."  
  
"Well, Hilary, it doesn't matter how they found out. What do they say?"  
  
"They want me to go to London. Right away. To interview some architect for a position in the firm."  
  
"Oh. That doesn't sound too bad."  
  
"Don't you understand, Pat? We would have to leave here early. Cut our honeymoon short. No. I'm not going. I'll send them a wire saying I can't go."  
  
Hilary disappeared out the door, leaving Pat and 'Papa' behind in a state of bewilderment. They looked at each other and then Papa nodded at Pat to go catch up with him. She smiled, setting the music box carefully on the counter and ran out after her husband. Papa chuckled.  
  
"Hilary! Hilary, slow down. I can't catch up with you. Hilary, please stop!"  
  
He finally complied and Pat caught up to him. She put a soothing hand on his arm.  
  
"Don't be angry, Hilary. We still have one glorious night left here. We can leave for London tomorrow and spend the rest of our honeymoon there."  
  
"Some honeymoon. Pat, I'll have to spend a lot of time with this man. You don't realize how much. I'll have to look at sketches, blueprints, and even take a tour of any buildings he's designed. There won't be any time for us."  
  
"Nonsense. Hilary, I won't say I'm not upset about this, because I am, but there's no reason for you to refuse your firm. You could get into trouble. We've been here for three weeks. Just think, Hilary. You wouldn't have to be with him the entire time. We could go sightseeing. Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, Covent Garden."  
  
"I've seen all those places."  
  
"Not with me you haven't. And didn't you just say last week that, even though you'd been here before, this time was much better because you were with me?"  
  
That brought a reluctant smile to his face.  
  
"Everything's better when you're with me, Pat."  
  
"Then it's settled. We leave for London tomorrow. Who knows? Maybe we'll even have time to spend in Ireland. I've always wanted to see the places Judy talked about so often. Oh, Hilary, please don't look like that. It'll be fun, I promise."  
  
Hilary smiled and shook his head.  
  
"You're amazing, Pat. Have I ever told you that?"  
  
"Not for the past hour. I must admit, I was beginning to feel unappreciated," came the teasing reply.  
  
"I spoil you, Patricia Gordon," Hilary said, his mouth savoring how sweet those two names sounded together.  
  
"Of course you do. I wouldn't have it any other way. Now, if we are to be in London by tomorrow, we should go pack. Come on."  
  
"We'll probably need to buy another suitcase with all the things you bought here. What am I saying? It might even take a trunk."  
  
Pat stared evilly at her husband, who grinned and then took off running towards their chateau. Pat chased after him, making quite a sight for the villagers, who merely smiled at the two lovers.  
  
A/N: Does the term 'villagers' work? I know it's the 1940's, but I wanted to make it clear that they weren't anywhere near a city or anyplace even big enough to be a town. Hmmm. I wonder. Read and review please. Chapter 2 to come soon. 


	2. An Invitation

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: I only got a couple of reviews asking for a sequel, but I'm posting one anyway. Why you ask? Just because. Thanks to silverfish, meg, and ruby gillis for their encouragement on Chapter 10 of 'The Wedding'. You people are awesome!  
  
It was late evening by the time they arrived in London. Pat was exhausted and felt grimy from all her travel. Hilary kept glancing at her from time to time, worried. Pat just didn't tire this easily. But she had assured him that traveling just did that to her.  
  
They went straight to the hotel. Hilary had a morning meeting with Mr. Parker Bowen, the man he had come to interview, and Pat insisted that he needed to go straight to sleep. Despite being so tired herself, she found she was too excited to sleep. After her bath, she went back into the room to find that Hilary, who had protested being ordered off to bed like a child, was sound asleep on top of the covers. All he had managed to get off was his shoes. She smiled at him and thought about waking him up so he could get ready for bed properly, but didn't have the heart.  
  
Pat settled herself by the window and looked out at the nighttime view of London. She really was quite captivated by this city. To her, it seemed the air was thick with the history of England. Things she had learned and read about as a child seemed so real now that she was here. From their window, she could see the Tower of London silhouetted against the starry sky. A delicious shiver ran up her spine as she recalled all the things she had learned about that place. The name itself had always conjured up visions of fair queens marching to their deaths, convicts spending out their miserable lives in their dark stone prison, gruesome murders and beheadings. But to actually see the place where all of it had happened was an entirely different matter.  
  
She lingered by the window a few more moments before deciding she would write her parents. She had promised to write, but, as yet, had not put a single word on a piece of paper. The letter was begun with good intentions. Pat wrote an entire page before she laid her head down on the desk. Her neck was hurting. She just needed to rest it for a minute and then she could finish her letter. But the letter wasn't finished that night. Hilary found her the next morning, fast asleep. The pen was still in her hand and her other arm cradled her head.  
  
"Pat," he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. "Pat, wake up."  
  
Pat opened her eyes slowly, surprised to see the sunlight that streamed through the windows. She lifted her head in amazement and Hilary started to laugh.  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"The side of your face is all red. It must be from where it was pressed up against the desk."  
  
"I haven't slept all night, have I? Not here."  
  
"Yes, I'm afraid you have. What a pair we make. You sleep at a desk and I sleep in my clothes."  
  
"At least you made it to the bed," Pat replied as she stood up and stretched. "When do you have to meet Mr. Bowen?"  
  
"At ten. It's half past eight right now. I better get moving."  
  
"Yes, you better. What shall I do while you're gone?"  
  
"Go sightseeing. Or shopping. Get yourself some new dresses, Pat."  
  
"Hilary, I have dresses."  
  
"Any evening dresses?"  
  
"Not really. It depends on how formal the evening is. If you're talking about a Silverbridge or Bay Shore dance, then, yes, I have evening dresses."  
  
"I'm afraid that might not do. We'll probably have to go to a formal dinner while we're here in London and these British upper-crust types are very choosy. Go get yourself a couple of formal evening gowns."  
  
"Hilary, do we really have the money for all this?"  
  
Hilary smiled at his wife. She had budgeted almost all her life and was having trouble grasping the concept that, while not extremely wealthy, Hilary was well-off. He had saved his money all his life, spending it only on his basic needs and the occasional present to send to Pat or various members of her family. He was a successful architect in Vancouver and already well-respected. Before they were married, he had made sure there was plenty of money for whatever Pat might want.  
  
"Pat, it will be alright. As long as you don't spend thousands of pounds on a dress, we will be fine."  
  
"Thousands of pounds on a dress? Hilary, you must be joking," Pat exclaimed. Hilary shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"Some of the men in my firm are always complaining about how much their wives spend on clothes. You'd be surprised, Pat."  
  
They continued to talk about this and other matters until Hilary was ready to go. Pat had also gotten ready, putting on a golden yellow dress that her mother had made for her. No one would ever be able to see that it hadn't come from one of the fine shops in London. Hilary kissed his wife goodbye, wishing fervently that he didn't have to leave her alone in a strange city, and then left the hotel, but not before giving the doorman a generous tip and strict instructions to help his wife.  
  
FOUR HOURS LATER:  
  
Pat rushed back to the hotel. She was sure Hilary was already back and probably worried about her. It had been fun, this little shopping trip of hers. She now owned two of the most beautiful dresses she had ever owned in her life. They had cost a pretty penny, but the amount of money she had spent was nowhere near the amount Hilary had finally given her for a limit. She was sure he would like the dresses when they were delivered. That is, if he wasn't still upset with her for being gone so long.  
  
When she reached their room, she was surprised to find that Hilary had not returned yet. She wasn't too worried about him. After all, he had been in London before and knew his way around. But as the minutes ticked by, she began to wonder. Two more hours passed before Pat could bear it no longer. She couldn't go look for him. She would probably get lost herself. But she decided that she could go for a walk. Maybe it would calm her nerves. After leaving a short note for Hilary, she grabbed a shawl and headed for the door. But Hilary met her going out.  
  
"Hilary, where have you been? I was starting to get worried."  
  
"I'm sorry, Pat. I would've left word if I could've. My meeting with Mr. Bowen went much longer than I expected."  
  
Pat was about to ask how the meeting went, but the look on Hilary's face spoke volumes.  
  
"He wasn't what you'd hoped?" she inquired.  
  
"Oh, he's a very talented architect. His drawings and sketches are amazing and I saw a couple of the buildings he designed. He's just what the firm needs."  
  
"What's wrong, then, Hilary?"  
  
"Well, when I first met him, I had a really good feeling about him. He's very young, Pat, to be as successful as he is. Two years younger than me, in fact. But, the longer we were together, the more I wished I was somewhere else."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I just felt like he was looking down his nose at me. As if he thought I wasn't good enough for him. There were a couple of times when he seemed very friendly and more like someone I'd like to get to know better. But those times were few and far between. I understand his family is part of the British aristocracy. Pat, I was just hoping to find a true friend in this new man. I'm sure I'll be recommending him to the firm. He's too talented for my personal feelings about him to get in the way. But, when I saw how young he was, I thought that, finally, I would have a good friend my own age at the firm. I guess that's out of the question now."  
  
"Hilary, I'm so sorry it didn't turn out the way you hoped it would. At least it's over with now. You'll just have to spend the rest of your time with me."  
  
"No, I'm afraid not. Pat, I'm supposed to do more than just have one meeting with this man. If I don't see him for the rest of the week, he'll think me rude and, if my firm decides to hire him, I can't have one of my colleagues thinking that about me. Pat, I'm going to ask you for an unpleasant favor. He's invited us to his home for a formal dinner this evening. I had to accept. Consider it a trial run for what you can expect when we get home. Everyone will want to meet you and, for the first few weeks, you must endure stuffy dances and interminable formal dinners."  
  
"Well," Pat replied, determined to stay cheerful for Hilary's sake, "I guess it's a good thing I got two formal dresses today. You'll need to help me decide which one to wear."  
  
"Pat, you're a brick. Any other woman might have just bit my head off for accepting an invitation to a formal dinner without consulting her first."  
  
"If it's something that needs to be done, Hilary, I'm right behind you. Now, surely we have some time before this dinner starts. How about a nice, leisurely walk?"  
  
Hilary's face brightened at the prospect of a relaxing walk with his wife. The two of them wasted no time in getting ready for their stroll. Pat effectively covered up the fact that her heart was pounding already with nervousness concerning the dinner that night.  
  
A/N: Sorry it's been so long. Things have been awfully crazy around here lately. To make up for it, I'm posting two chapters at a time. Next chapter: What will happen at the fateful dinner? 


	3. The Fateful Dinner

Disclaimer: I do not own Pat, Hilary, or any of the Gardiners. But I do own the Bowens.  
  
A/N: THE DINNER What will they think of the Bowens?  
  
Pat was still managing to cover her nervousness as they climbed the steps to the door of the Bowen house. At least it wasn't huge. It was a modest home by all appearances, but well kept and very elegant in style. The Bowens lived in the city, not too far from where Hilary and Pat were staying. Pat would have preferred to walk, in fact, but Hilary had pointed out that it would be better to take a taxi. Besides, if they walked, Pat would risk injury to her dress.  
  
Hilary had loved the dresses when they arrived, just as Pat thought he would. She had received help from the lady in the store, who had managed to convince her that, instead of two dresses for dancing, she would probably need at least one for a dinner party. Hilary's favorite, alas, was the dress for dancing which was now laying on their bed in the hotel room. But he did like this one. Instead of the customary black, it was a deep, deep purple. Hilary thought Pat looked wonderful, but unlike herself in some way. This, he believed was the result of her hair. She usually let it tumble down around her shoulders in soft curls. But, this evening, it was pinned up elegantly. She looked very sophisticated and chic. Hilary mentally dared the Bowens to find fault with his wife.  
  
They reached the door and Hilary knocked, using the ornate brass knocker. Pat couldn't help but think it was almost as nice as the one from Silver Bush. The door was opened by a tall, severe-looking woman dressed in gray. She looked as if she had tasted something unpleasant in childhood and had never really gotten the taste out of her mouth. Pat couldn't say anything. Her nervousness was in full swing. Hilary, glancing sideways at her, noticed that she had suddenly gone pale. He spoke up.  
  
"Good evening. I am Hilary Gordon and this is my wife, Patricia. I believe Mr. and Mrs. Bowen are expecting us."  
  
The woman nodded and opened the door wider.  
  
"Please come in, Mr. and Mrs. Gordon. I'll tell Master Bowen you're here."  
  
They entered and the woman took their wraps, then disappeared. Pat looked at Hilary.  
  
"MASTER Bowen?"  
  
"Just a formality, Pat. I'm sure she's a paid servant, not a slave."  
  
His last comment earned him an icy glare, but he couldn't help noticing the way Pat's mouth twitched at the corners. They didn't wait too long. A young man soon appeared. Pat realized he must be 'Master' Bowen and she saw right away why Hilary had thought he would be so friendy.  
  
Parker Bowen was tall and slim, like Hilary, with fair hair and blue eyes. His face seemed so friendly and warm. Pat imagined he must have a friendly smile. But the smile he wore now was rather.fake. Almost as if he had pasted it on. He came forward and shook Hilary's hand.  
  
"Mr. Gordon. I'm so glad you could make it. And you must be Mrs. Gordon," he said, turning to Pat. He took her hand briefly. "It's very good to meet you. I'm afraid my wife isn't down yet. But she will be joining us shortly. Shall we wait for her in the parlor?"  
  
Pat, despite her tumultuous thoughts, latched on to the word 'parlor'. Not very many people used that term any more. It was considered too old- fashioned. She filed that away in her memory as he led them into the room. It was beautifully decorated. Simple, but elegant. Pat was somewhat surprised. The way Hilary had talked, she had expected an ostentatious room with brilliant colors. But the décor was subdued and tasteful. Looking at Hilary, she saw that he, too, was surprised. Her eyes were soon drawn to a large painting which was centrally located in the room. Mr. Bowen followed her eyes and smiled.  
  
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, she is," agreed Pat. The painting was of a young woman, probably in her early twenties. She was standing in what was obviously the parlor they were sitting in right at the moment. The woman was dressed in a ballgown, white in color. Pat admitted she was beautiful. She had an ivory complexion, night-black hair and green eyes. Yet she seemed untouchable. Someone Pat couldn't imagine herself being friends with.  
  
"That's my wife, actually. Katherine is her name. I had that commissioned for our fifth anniversary. It didn't exactly turn out the way I had hoped, but it is beautiful. Of course, it doesn't half do justice to her."  
  
As if on cue, the woman in the portrait breezed into the room. She was shorter than Pat had imagined, but, as her husband had said, the painting didn't do her justice. The ivory complexion also had a rosy tint to it, giving her more color. Her black hair was glossy and her green eyes were revealed to be a much deeper color than the painting portrayed. Yet, still, she seemed distant as she held her hand out to Hilary, then Pat.  
  
"I'm so glad to finally meet you both. I do apologize for your wait. The dinner is ready and I'm sure you're hungry. Please, follow me."  
  
Hilary and Pat obediently followed. Pat's mind was working overtime. Something wasn't right here. The behavior of their hosts seemed to contradict their appearance. Despite Mrs. Bowen's somewhat distant manner and cultured British voice, there was something in her eyes that Pat found herself drawn to. What was going on here?  
  
The dinner was delicious, but Pat was soon bored. Hilary and Mr. Bowen spoke of architectural doings and Mrs. Bowen, although a charming hostess, seemed only to care for the latest fashions and gossip. Pat fervently hoped that all the dinners she was to attend wouldn't be like this. Just as she was beginning to wonder if it was too early to suggest that she was tired, there was a fateful interruption to the disastrous dinner.  
  
Right in the middle of dessert, a very sleepy looking little boy wandered into the dining room. Pat guessed his age to be about four. His sandy hair was a bit mussed and his blue eyes blinked continuously in his effort to keep them open. He was dressed in pajamas and he seemed rather irritated. Neither of his parents saw him until he spoke up.  
  
"Mummy, I've been waiting forever. When are you going to come read to me?"  
  
The mistress of the house looked up from her dessert in shock. Pat thought the range of emotions that crossed her face was very interesting. First guilt, then embarrassment, then irritation. But a mask quickly covered all those. Before she could reply, her son uttered the straw that broke the camel's back.  
  
"Are these people ever going to leave?"  
  
Mrs. Bowen turned pale and her husband's eyes began to flash.  
  
"Robert!" exclaimed Mrs. Bowen. "That's no way to speak to our guests."  
  
"Apologize, young man," Mr. Bowen added.  
  
But before the 'young man' could apologize, Pat began to find the situation very funny. Here she was, wanting to leave, and the only person in the room with enough courage to say what he felt was a four year old boy. Unable to help herself, she began to smile, then giggle, then laugh. Hilary turned to her, his eyes imploring her to stop, but Pat could not. Her laughter rang through the house and Hilary, always unable to resist that sound, began to laugh with her. Both were surprised when they realized they weren't the only ones laughing. Mr. and Mrs. Bowen had begun to laugh, too. In fact, the only person not laughing was young Robert, who looked very confused. His mother, still laughing, scooped him up in her arms and carried him upstairs.  
  
When the laughter had subsided, Parker Bowen started to apologize for his son's behavior, but Hilary cut him off.  
  
"Think nothing of it, Mr. Bowen. Children don't know when to censor themselves. It's very refreshing, actually."  
  
"Don't call me Mr. Bowen. Call me Parker, please. Mr. Bowen sounds so strange to me. All my friends call me Parker."  
  
Hilary's eyes twinkled with merriment. This was the true Parker Bowen.  
  
"Well then, Parker. You must call me Hilary."  
  
"And call me Pat," added the former Patricia Gordon.  
  
Parker warmed up immediately and soon spilled out all the details. He and his wife had been afraid their humdrum life wouldn't be enough to impress Hilary and so they had behaved as they had imagined the Gordons would. Parker's family was indeed part of the British aristocracy, but Parker had made his own way in the world, determined not to rely on his family's wealth. They soon adjourned back into the parlor where they waited for Mrs. Bowen's return and laughed over the mixup of their meeting. Parker was a very friendly, funny man and Hilary found his earlier impression melting away. Pat hoped the same would be true of Mrs. Bowen.  
  
She was not disappointed. Mrs. Bowen returned after about twenty minutes, having read to young Robert and tucked him in. She smiled at Pat, a beautiful smile that made her face radiant. And when she spoke, it was the biggest surprise of all.  
  
"I'm so glad we needn't keep up with this charade. It's a bit av an inconvenience, isn't it now?"  
  
Pat's mouth dropped open in spite of herself.  
  
"You're Irish?"  
  
"Born and raised. Av course, after I married Parker, I moved to England and my accent isn't what it used to be, but it pops up every now and then. Usually when I'm mad. I have a raging Irish temper. It's one av my worst faults. I can speak just as beautifully as the quane herself when I want. But I much prefer my own voice."  
  
"So do I," agreed Pat.  
  
They talked well into the night and plans were made for the next day for the Gordons and all of the Bowens to go on a sightseeing tour of London. Pat and Hilary left happy, sure that they had made lifelong friends. The race that knows Joseph had recognized its own.  
  
A/N: More about the Bowens in the next chapter. Then, it's back home for Hilary and Pat. But are there more surprises in store? Hmmmm. 


	4. A Friendship Cemented

Disclaimer: I own nothing. So much for the American Dream. (Just kidding)  
  
A/N: This will probably be a pretty long chapter, so get ready. The more reviews I get, the faster I'll update. Here is the part where I beg. Please, please, please review.  
  
Hilary and Pat had more fun than ever now that they had found kindred spirits in Parker and Katherine Bowen. Katherine had insisted on being called Katie right away and Pat found the name fit her. She was surprised to learn that, although Katie and Parker had been married for eleven years, Katie was actually three years younger than herself. She and Parker had married fairly young. He had been nineteen and she was seventeen when they married.  
  
Robert, to Pat's secret delight, was not an only child. There was nine year old Keelin, who, with her black curls and green eyes, was a miniature of her beautiful mother. Seven year old David also took after his mother in looks, although his father was quite obviously the object of his hero worship. Four year old Robert was a mixture of his parents in looks, with a slightly darker version of his father's hair, and his mother's eyes. But his soul was his own and Pat quickly saw that he was the rebel of the little group. But such a lovable rebel. Then, there was the baby of the family. Little Bryson was two years old. He captured Pat's heart right away and, after his first few minutes with Hilary, had formed quite an attachment.  
  
On this day, three days after the 'dinner of doom' as Hilary laughingly referred to it, Parker, Katie, and their children had invited Hilary and Pat to Ireland. It was the wedding anniversary of Katie's parents and they were sure to have a good time. The day after the dinner, Hilary had wired his firm, recommending Parker for a position. The rest of the trip was no longer bogged down with business, although Parker and Hilary often fell into conversation about architecture.  
  
Such was the case at the moment. They were on the boat, headed for Ireland, and all Hilary and Parker had done since they met up that morning was discuss architecture. Pat found it somewhat amusing, actually, to watch them. They didn't make the ordinary picture of men talking business. Parker had Robert perched on his shoulders while ever faithful David stood quietly by his side. Pat marveled at the ability of the young boy to stay so still for so long. Had Sid and Joe ever been able to do that? Hilary, too, had his bundle of joy. Bryson, who began to cry whenever someone took him away, was nestled comfortably against Hilary's chest, sleeping. Pat couldn't help but envy the boy. Still, it was a darling sight.  
  
Katie was watching eagerly for sight of Ireland. Keelin stood nearby, looking very bored. Pat smiled at her. It was painfully obvious the girl wanted to run around and play. She was the type that needed something to do.  
  
"You'll love my family, Pat. And I'm sure they'll love you and Hilary."  
  
"Do you have any brothers or sisters, Katie?"  
  
"One brother, three sisters. Eamon is the oldest av us all. Seven years older than I. Then there's Breena. She's four years older than me. I'm in the middle. Taryn is one year younger and Maeve is the baby. She's only twenty one."  
  
"You talk as if you were ancient."  
  
"Not at all. You're only old if you feel you are. Oh, don't let me forget. I want to show you the Castle McDermott before we leave tomorrow."  
  
Pat froze.  
  
"Castle McDermott? I've heard of that place," she heard herself say.  
  
Katie's face lit up.  
  
"Really? It's a grand place, to be sure. A member av our family was a servant there once. Long ago. I niver met her. Neither did my father for that matter. She was my great-aunt. My grandfather told me she left Ireland when she was barely grown. Traveled to Canada with their oldest brother. She must've liked it there. Grandfather told me she worked for a family there that she loved. She was going to come out for a visit a few years back, but never got here. Wrote a letter saying she was needed there. We received word that she had died about a year ago. I would've liked to meet her. She must've been quite a lady. Oh, look! There it is! Pat? Pat, are you alright?"  
  
Pat was not alright. Pat felt as if she would faint at any minute. Surely Katie couldn't mean Judy! Or could she? Pat had never asked Katie's maiden name, nor had Katie asked Pat for hers. It seemed odd, somehow, that this conversation hadn't come up the moment Pat had discovered Katie was Irish. Anything having to do with Ireland always brought Judy to Pat's mind. She realized, of course, that the possibility of Katie being related to Judy had never crossed her mind. Hilary's hand on her shoulder brought Pat out of her reverie. She looked up into a pair of worried grey eyes.  
  
"Are you okay, Pat?"  
  
Katie and Parker stood nearby, concern blanketing their faces. By now, Pat was beginning to recover her wits. She was never without them for long. Her eyes met Katie's and, somehow, she knew it had to be true.  
  
"Your maiden name is Plum, isn't it, Katie?"  
  
At the name she spoke, Pat felt Hilary stiffen. She looked back at him and saw realization dawn on his face.  
  
"Yes, but how did you know? I don't raley remember telling you."  
  
"That's because you didn't. But, then again, I never told you mine either. Before I was Patricia Gordon, I was Patricia Gardiner. A Gardiner of Silver Bush."  
  
It was Katie's turn to look shocked. Slowly, an incandescent smile spread over her face.  
  
"A Gardiner of Silver Bush? Can it raley be possible? I grew up hearing stories about yer family, about yer home. Wait. Patsy. That's what Great- Aunt Judy always called you. You're Patsy."  
  
The sound of the old nickname almost brought tears to Pat's eyes. She had begun to feel that, at last, she had a female friend worthy of the love she had given to her dear Bets. Now, to find out that the friend was a blood relative of one of the most amazing, wonderful women Pat had ever known, it was overwhelming. She hugged Katie, who did not utter a word of protest. Hilary, for his part, was still a little stunned by this turn of events. Parker wasn't far behind him and the children merely looked on in confusion.  
  
Pat was in her element as they stepped off the boat and on to Irish soil. The dock was busy, a bit filthy actually, but Pat didn't mind. Parker decided to get a taxi to take them to the house, which was on the outskirts of the town. There wasn't much luggage, but Bryson was beginning to get cranky and Robert wasn't far behind. He knew his wife, however, well enough to know that she would want to walk to her parent's home. Pat decided to walk with her, as did Keelin, who had had enough of standing still, and David, who surprised both his parents with his decision to join his mother. Hilary went with Parker and the two women and two children were soon walking towards their destination.  
  
They walked in a comfortable silence. Katie occasionally called her son or daughter back to her, declaring they were getting too far away. Once they neared the outskirts, however, Pat realized the children were allowed to wander further. Pat found the scenery here beyond description. Everything was as Judy had said. Of course, times being what they were, there were bound to be some differences, but charm hung thick in the very air of Ireland. Pat saw easily why Judy had loved it so much. The country side fairly took her breath away. Everything was so green. But such a deep, vibrant green. It was really unlike any place Pat had ever seen. Somehow, here, she found it easier to believe there were fairies in the bushes by the road, or leprechauns darting about unseen.  
  
"There's the house," Katie said suddenly. Pat looked up and saw a small, whitewashed house standing on the top of the hill. The door was a vibrant red in color and a fat, jolly-looking stone chimney stuck out of the grey roof. Pat grinned.  
  
"It's perfect," she declared. "How old is it?"  
  
"Oh, it's been in our family for generations. I'm not sure of the exact time it was built, though."  
  
"Why is it that your accent seems to come and go?" Pat asked suddenly. Katie sighed.  
  
"Years of suppressing it, I suppose. I've grown so used to speaking without it. It isn't proper for a successful businessman to have a wife with a thick Irish accent."  
  
Pat's eyes narrowed.  
  
"So you suppress it for Parker?"  
  
"Well, yes. But not at his request. He loves my voice, actually. Told me so many times while we were 'courting'. And while we were engaged. And after we were married." Katie laughed. "It seems he's always complimenting me on something. You know, sometimes I feel I'm not half good enough for him."  
  
"I know the feeling," said Pat ruefully. Katie glanced at her.  
  
"I remember Great-Aunt Judy writing about you and Hilary. She thought from day one that the two av you would marry. The only time she lost confidence was when you became engaged to that Kirk fellow."  
  
This was strange indeed! Although Pat was sure she would have told Katie about her engagement to David, it certainly felt odd to have her already know about it. Especially when they had known each other only a few days. But Katie wasn't through.  
  
"I felt sorry for you, you know."  
  
Pat met Katie's eyes questioningly. The Irish woman sighed and continued.  
  
"I probably shouldn't be saying this. I might be risking our friendship by bringing up such a painful subject. But I cried so hard the night Da read us the letter Judy wrote about your friend."  
  
Pat immediately knew which friend Katie was referring to. She took a deep breath and willed the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat to go away. Even now, even after all these years, it hurt to think of Bets. But she did not stop Katie's words.  
  
"We had heard all about her from Great-Aunt Judy, av course. She was so sweet, so beautiful, so kind. I envied the friendship you had with her. I didn't have a friend like that. Oh, I had my sisters and a few friends at school, but no one I loved so deeply. No one who could always tell what I was thinking or feeling. When we heard av her death, I cried and cried. I remember the next day, beginning to write a letter to you. But I niver had the courage to send it. Why would a sixteen year old Canadian girl want a letter from a thirteen year old girl in Ireland? I often wished later that I had sent it. But I had burned it. I didn't want Eamon to see. He teased me terribly when we were younger. Still does, actually. Keelin! I don't mind you running, but you will not roll around in the grass like a colt! Especially not in that dress."  
  
Her mother's sudden admonishment brought a flush to Keelin's face. She obediently stood and began to wipe the bits of grass off her dress. Katie smiled.  
  
"The first thing she'll do is go to Eamon and Bridget's house. She'll coax Eamon into letting her wear one of his son's old outfits so she can play as much as she wants. If it weren't for the anniversary dinner tonight, I'd say this is the last time you'll see her in a dress."  
  
Pat watched with amusement as Keelin bypassed her grandparent's home and headed further down the road to another little white house. Katie laughed and Pat thought again what a pleasant laugh Katie had. Perhaps, if the letter had been sent, Katie would have been her friend for all these years, instead of just these few days. The odd thing was, she didn't feel as if she were betraying Bets, as she had when she first became friends with Suzanne Kirk. Bets would've liked Suzanne. Bets had liked everyone she met, even going so far as to say there must be something good about May Binnie. But Pat had always felt that Bets and Suzanne would never have been close friends. Something told Pat that such was not the case with Katie. She found herself speaking as they began to near the house.  
  
"I'm glad we've found each other, Katie. I wish you had sent that letter, but I suppose all things come together in their own good time. And we'll be friends from now on. That's what really counts."  
  
Katie smiled and linked her arm through Pat's, just as Bets used to do. And they made their way to the front door, arm in arm, as if they had known each other for a lifetime.  
  
A/N: I am so sorry it took so long for an update! But I had been inspired to do a 'Kate and Leopold' fanfic which, after all my work, I deemed not good enough to post. Then my muse gave me an idea for my 'Mummy Returns' fanfic, and I just finished writing and posting that chapter. Not to mention the fact that I just saw 'Chicago' for the first time (Cool movie!) and it's really hard to get back into 'Pat' mode after watching a story about sex, murder, and lies, even if said story contains really great music.  
  
A special thanks to all my reviewers. Marzoog, silverfish, miri, meg, and Danae. You people are so complimentary! Thank you for all your encouragement. And, meg, the pretty please was what got my gear shifted up on this chapter. Thanks again to everyone! Please review and any storyline suggestions would be welcomed. 


	5. The Story of Taryn

A/N: I'm ba-ack! Everyone run for cover, quick! Seriously, though, I would appreciate any thoughts on my story. I apologize if Katie's accent comes and goes. It's difficult for me to remember she's Irish sometimes. On a side note, I have to say that my head is getting very big with all the compliments my faithful reviewer meg is showering me with. I was having a very bad day when I got your last review, meg, and it made me feel better to know that you looked forward to my updates so much. I hereby dedicate this chaper to meg, who put me in a good enough mood to write it.  
  
The reception Katie and Pat received was nothing short of ecstatic. Katie was swamped by four small boys, who Pat guessed to be her nephews. A small young woman was not far behind them. She was very dainty, much shorter than Katie, and her coloring was completely different. She had golden- brown hair and a darker complexion than Katie's. But her eyes were the same incomparable green, bringing Pat to the correct conclusion that she must be one of Katie's sisters.  
  
When the initial onslaught had been survived, Parker and Hilary were able to join their wives. Introductions were made between Pat and the young woman, who turned out to be Maeve. Maeve, after greeting her sister, showed herself to be of a rather shy nature. Pat noticed she wouldn't even make eye contact with Hilary. The four boys were Katie's nephews, as Pat had thought. Patrick and Seamus, ages six and three, were the youngest of Eamon's three children. His oldest, ten year old Donovan, was at home with his parents. Breena's youngest child, two year old Danny, was also there. His parents had taken his two older sisters into the nearby town. Then, there was three year old Aidan, Taryn's youngest.  
  
Maeve, it seemed, had been left in charge of this small brood while Katie's parents and two other sisters took everyone else into town. In truth, Maeve looked more than a little relieved that Katie had arrived. Being the youngest, she didn't have a great deal of experience with children, and four small, rowdy boys definitely were not her cup of tea.  
  
It wasn't long before the travelers returned and the onslaught began all over again. When everyone had greeted Katie and Parker, Katie began the introductions.  
  
"Pat, Hilary, I'd like you to meet my family. These are my parents, Sean and Keelin Plum. My older sister Breena and her husband, Joseph. Of course you've met their son, Danny. These are their daughters, Eileen and Arianna. And, of course, my younger sister, Taryn, and her oldest boy, Brendan. Everyone, this is Hilary Gordon and his wife, Pat. They're visiting from Canada."  
  
Sean Plum immediately caught the name. He fixed Pat and Hilary with his eyes (now Pat knew where Katie got that unusual color) in disbelief. His wife, as small and dainty as Maeve, handled things a bit differently. Her hazel eyes lit up with amazement.  
  
"Hilary Gordon and Patsy Gardiner," she repeated. An incandescent smile, Katie's smile, spread across her face. " 'Tis glad I am that ye both came to yer sinses and married. Aunt Judy knew ye wud someday."  
  
At first, Pat was shocked, but her sense of humor quickly came to the rescue. No doubt Judy had written them that Pat was too blind to see how much Hilary truly meant to her. She smiled back at Keelin Plum and extended her hand in greeting.  
  
"My husband and I are very glad to meet you, too. We never dreamed we'd be meeting any of Judy's relatives on our honeymoon."  
  
"Your honeymoon, is it? What a stroke av luck. Sean. Sean, don't be after starin' at our guests. 'Tisn't polite."  
  
Sean looked down at his wife, which nearly required him to look at the floor. As the couple began to banter good-naturedly, Pat found herself being ushered to a seat by Katie. Once she was comfortable, she allowed herself to get a better look at these people who were Judy's family.  
  
Keelin Plum was obviously proof of the old saying, 'Don't judge a book by it's cover'. She was little, probably not much over five feet tall. And her figure, despite her age and having borne five children, was remarkably trim. Her hair was as black as Katie's, though threads of silver could be seen in the pinned up tresses. A casual observer would say she looked gentle and kind, slow to wrath.  
  
In truth, the more even-tempered half of this marriage housed itself in the 6'4" frame of Sean Plum. He was one of those men that was 'larger than life'. This gentle giant of a man had fallen in love forty years ago with a firecracker of a girl. That situation had not changed. As Katie later told Pat, Sean was always the voice of reason, the last to get angry. It was Keelin who often lost her temper and, as children, Katie, her sisters and her brother had always known which parent would get upset about something they had done.  
  
In this way, however, Sean balanced his wife. Just as she balanced out his shyness and his tendency to keep to himself. Pat wondered absent-mindedly which parent Katie took after the most. Obviously, Maeve was her father's daughter. Taryn seemed to take after him as well, though Pat couldn't be sure. She stood quietly with her two boys in one corner of the room, watching her parents with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.  
  
Pat had a flash of insight at that moment. She was looking at an unhappy young woman. Pat chided herself. What right had she to make assumptions about this woman? They'd only just been introduced. But she had a nagging feeling that she was right. She resolved to ask Katie about it later and then busied herself with little Bryson, who had just climbed up in her lap.  
  
THREE HOURS LATER:  
  
Pat, Hilary, Katie, and Parker had escaped the madness of the Plum household for a while. The children remained behind, none to eager to join their parents on a 'grown-up' walk. Katie was showing her new friends around her childhood haunts. At the moment, Hilary and Parker had gone up ahead so Parker could 'show Hilary something'. Both wives knew that the something must be a house that Parker deemed architecturally brilliant. But Pat didn't resent this competition for Hilary's attention too much at the moment. She wanted to ask Katie about her sister.  
  
"See that little cottage over there?" Katie pointed to a very small home. It was whitewashed, like most houses Pat had seen during their walk. But the door was painted an emerald green, something Pat hadn't seen yet.  
  
"That's where Taryn lives," Katie informed her.  
  
It was the opening Pat had been waiting for. She desperately hoped that she wasn't about to offend her newfound friend.  
  
"Katie, do you mind if I ask you a question?"  
  
Katie gave her a small smile, a rather sad smile actually.  
  
"What is it you want to know about Taryn?"  
  
Pat, despite her misgivings, continued her quest for knowledge.  
  
"It's not that I want to be nosy. And if you say it's none of my business, I'll completely understand. But, why does your sister seem so unhappy? She hardly said a word all afternoon. And I didn't think it was because she was shy."  
  
A small sigh escaped Katie's lips. Pat wondered for a moment if she had gone too far, but Katie answered.  
  
"Oh, she wasn't always that way. Taryn used to be more like our mother, actually. She loved to laugh, loved to dance. Aven I had a hard time kapin' up with her."  
  
"What happened?" Pat asked softly.  
  
"Well, ye have to know more about Taryn to understand. She was a bit av a flirt while we were growin' up. Oh, nothin' disgraceful, but just enough to kape the boys goin' crazy."  
  
Pat hid a smile. Now, why did that sound like someone she knew? Katie continued, defending her sister.  
  
"Av course, I couldn't blame her. She's so exquisitely beautiful. Don't you agree?"  
  
It was true, Pat had to admit. Taryn looked like the fairies Pat used to imagine as a child. She was just a hair taller than Katie's mother, with the same dainty build. Her hair was light brown in color, with several hints of gold and red and her complexion was as creamy as Katie's. Taryn's eyes were hazel, with glints of green in them and they were surrounded by thick, black lashes. Pat reflected, though, that they had held deep sorrow in their depths, even when Taryn smiled or laughed.  
  
"I guess I'm just a proud sister," continued Katie. "I always felt closer to Taryn than I did to the rest of my family. But I'm babbling along now. Let me tell you the full story."  
  
Katie slowed her walk and Pat did the same, realizing Katie didn't want to catch up to Hilary and Parker before her story was finished.  
  
"We began to worry about Taryn around ten years ago. Taryn was seventeen and beginning to worry us. She had no interest in going to the university, though she's one av the smartest people I've iver met. And the thought av marriage didn't seem to appeal to her, either. She was perfectly happy with things as they were. I suppose the boys around here were content, too. She jist didn't seem to have any direction."  
  
Pat nodded her head in understanding. Rae had been the same way not so long ago. She, too, had worried about her sister.  
  
"Anyway, not too long after she turned eighteen, Taryn seemed quieter. Av course, by this time I was married and living in England. But I visited as often as I could manage and there were letters and the occasional phone call. Aven I could see the change in her. We all thought it had somethin' to do with Colin McRae, one av her more serious 'beaus'. You should've seen my parent's faces when Liam Findlay asked them for permission to marry Taryn."  
  
"Who's Liam Findlay?"  
  
"Liam and Eamon grew up together. They were the best av friends. And we had all thought that Liam and Breena had a bit av a romance at one time. But it turned out that Liam had loved Taryn all along. And she loved him. All you had to do was watch her whenever he was around. I recognized the way she looked at him. And Liam treated her like a queen. Anythin' she wanted was given to her. They married in 1935, just before Christmas, and set up housekeeping in that house with the green door."  
  
"What is he like?"  
  
"Liam was tall, almost as tall as my father. He was very handsome, too. Most av the girls around here practically threw themselves at him. He had fair hair and bright blue eyes. His skin was tan and he was very strong. I remember that about him the most. Liam was incredibly strong. Av course, he was a shipbuilder. So was his father, actually. Liam's father worked on the "Titanic". I mean, he was part av the crew that helped to build it."  
  
"You keep saying was, Katie. What happened to Liam?"  
  
Katie's trip down memory lane took a much more sorrowful turn at this point. Pat saw her blink back tears before she continued.  
  
"Liam is dead, Pat. He and his father had gone to Dublin for some reason. I can't remember the reason now. All I remember was getting the phone call from Mother and then getting home to Taryn as quickly as I could. Liam and his father were in an automobile accident. It had been raining all day, the roads were very slippery. The car they were in collided head on with another. His father lived for a few hours, but Liam was killed instantly."  
  
Pat was silent. What would she do if something like that were to ever happen to Hilary? Her heart went out to Taryn. It just wasn't fair to have the person you had planned to spend the rest of your life with so cruelly ripped away from you.  
  
"That was four years ago. Taryn was six months along with Aidan at the time. I think, if it hadn't been for Brendan and Aidan, she never would have found the strength to go on. She loved him so much. We all did."  
  
"I'm sorry if I've upset you with all these questions, Katie. I really had no right to pry."  
  
"Oh, don't be ridiculous," came the reply. Katie began wiping tears off her cheeks. "You're family now, Patsy Gardiner Gordon. You always have been. I think Taryn will be alright. She has her boys. They give her a reason for being. She loves them fiercely, you know."  
  
The two women continued walking in silence. The story of Taryn and Liam had affected both of them greatly. As they crested the top of the next hill, Pat caught sight of Hilary and had to will herself to not run up to him and shower him with kisses. Katie seemed to be thinking the same thing, only about Parker, of course. At any rate, both men found themselves on the receiving end of some welcome affection from their respective wives. As they made their way back to the Plum house, Pat reflected how truly blessed she was to have Hilary and she prayed that would never change.  
  
A/N: I know this chapter was a bit depressing, but you needed some background about Taryn. Also, at the end of this post, I'm putting something on that has nothing to do with either 'Pat of Silver Bush' or L. M. Montgomery. If you have a problem with what I'm going to say, then I feel sorry for you. There isn't much I can do in cases like this, but I will have something to say about it. It's too important to me.  
  
In Loving Memory of Johnny Cash, the Man in Black, whose songs touched a nation and it's people. We know we're with your beloved June now. In Loving Memory of John Ritter, who was taken from this world far too soon. You gave us the gift of laughter and, for that, we are eternally grateful. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the families of two incredibly gifted and very loved men. 


	6. Castle McDermott and the Cliffs of Donee...

A/N: Here we go again. Thanks for all the reviews (and the suggestions). And, without further delay, let's get to it.  
  
Pat's eyes closed almost as soon as her head hit the pillow that night. It had been a long day, culminating in an anniversary feast that Pat felt sure had blown her up to at least twice the size she had been that morning. As she drifted off to sleep, she heard a voice singing in the room next door. Even in her semi-conscious state, she realized it was Katie singing to her children and also thought it was a beautiful melody. Though she couldn't hear the words, the soft sound soon whisked her off to dreamland.  
  
She woke the next morning to a fabulous smell and, though at first disoriented, soon remembered where she was. Hilary was not in the room and, judging by the sunlight streaming through the windows, Pat had slept much later than usual. She jumped out of the bed, dressed quickly, and ran a brush through her hair, leaving it completely loose. Hilary liked it that way.  
  
Once downstairs, she was greeted by Katie and her children, Taryn and her children, and Maeve. All were finishing breakfast. Pat flushed guiltily. Judy's relatives must think her terribly lazy. But Katie merely smiled at Pat and, rising from her place at the table, went to fix her a plate.  
  
"Go ahead and sit down, Patsy," she said. Pat did just that, not minding in the slightest that Katie called her by the nickname Judy had given her. It sounded right, coming from Katie. After exchanging smiles with Taryn and Maeve, she realized the house was unoccupied except for them. Where was Hilary?  
  
"Hilary and Parker went to Eamon's this morning. Something about the new horse Eamon has. He's eager to show it off. Don't worry, Pat. He said goodbye to you before he left. None av us were surprised that you slept right through it, though. You had a long, hard day yesterday."  
  
Again, the flush crept up on Pat's face. She was unaccustomed to being idle. It didn't suit her at all, really. This was the first morning since her marriage that she had slept in. Well, the second anyway. Pat tried to stop the flush from deepening as she recalled that other morning, but only succeeded in averting her eyes. Katie smiled, as if she could read Pat's thoughts. She set a plate down on the table in front of Pat and returned to her own seat.  
  
Pat's eyes widened at the sight of all the food in front of her. She couldn't possibly eat all this! She was still full from last night! Rather than risk insult to her newfound friends, however, she began to take little bites. The food was delicious and Pat soon forgot that she wasn't hungry.  
  
"When will Hilary be back?" she asked Katie.  
  
"Oh, he and Parker should be back any moment. That is, unless they find a house that catches their attention."  
  
Pat smiled and looked at Taryn, who was watching Katie with amusement.  
  
"Sure and aren't ye the proper one?" she asked her sister. Pat was confused, though Katie didn't seem to be. Taryn went on.  
  
"Ye're in Ireland now, Katherine Tierney Bowen. Don't be coverin' up yer accent."  
  
Katie blushed a little, but could see that her sister was teasing her. Pat had noticed last night that Katie's voice contained a soft lilt, while the rest of her family's accents were much stronger.  
  
"Sure and I suppose ye'll be wantin' me to spake the auld Irish, too, Taryn Fiona."  
  
The complete change in her friend made Pat want to laugh out loud. The urge only increased at Taryn's reply.  
  
"No, thank you. I believe speaking in your own voice will be quite satisfactory for me."  
  
She spoke in perfect English. Not one syllable contained a lilt and Pat decided right away that she liked Taryn's normal voice much better.  
  
Maeve had watched all this in silence, as if removed from the group. Pat had learned last night that Maeve was the quietest of Sean and Keelin Plum's children. Eamon was his father over in looks, but had his mother's personality. Breena, a mirror image of her mother physically, was a mixture of her parents. And Taryn? Taryn was one that Pat was still struggling to understand. One minute she was teasing and laughing, like right now. The next minute, she was guarded and very quiet. Of course, Pat knew the reason for all this now, but she didn't give up hope that she would have Taryn's friendship by the time they left Ireland.  
  
Pat was jolted out of her thoughts by a sticky little hand on hers. Bryson had gotten out of his seat, unnoticed by his mother, and was now looking up at Pat with pleading eyes. He had red jam all around his mouth, on his hand, and, Pat realized, now on her dress. Katie saw it, too, and immediately went for her son, who cried when Pat was suddenly out of his reach.  
  
"Pat, I'm so sorry about your dress."  
  
"Oh, don't worry about it, Katie. It will come out alright, I think. And, if it doesn't, I'll have a new work dress when I get home. Poor little angel," she said, getting up and kissing Bryson on the top of his head. "He didn't mean any harm."  
  
"Is minic cuma aingeal ar an Diabhal fein," muttered Taryn mischievously. Katie burst out laughing and Maeve smiled. Pat was perplexed. And delighted at the same time. What a beautiful language!  
  
"Oh, what's that mean? Someone tell me, please," she entreated. Katie swallowed her laughter and tried to give her sister a stern glare, though she didn't quite succeed.  
  
"It's ashamed ye should be, Taryn. Insultin' your own nephew."  
  
Taryn didn't show a bit of shame, just as Katie knew she wouldn't. It was meant in a teasing way and was taken as such.  
  
"Pat, my poor little boy has been insulted. His aunt just compared him to the devil."  
  
"I did not! 'Tis an old sayin', Katie, and well you know it."  
  
"What did she say?" Pat asked again.  
  
"She said, 'There is often the look of an angel on the devil himself.' Oh, my poor little one."  
  
Katie pretended to shield her youngest child from his supposedly heartless aunt. But Bryson struggled in her arms and, when she set him down, he went straight to Taryn, who laughed. It was the first time Pat had really heard her laugh. She had a very pretty laugh, a bit like Rae's. Taryn took Bryson to get him cleaned up, while Katie grabbed Pat and took her up to change into a different dress. Maeve was left with the other children, but Keelin was a great help to her aunt.  
  
Upstairs, Pat realized she had no more dresses. They had only planned to stay the one night, but she scolded herself for not having foreseen something like this. Katie solved the problem quick enough and Pat soon found herself in an old dress of Katie's. It fit Pat perfectly, though it was a bit long, and the two women made their way back to the kitchen, where Hilary and Parker had decided they could do with a bit more breakfast.  
  
After the men ate a little more, the whole group decided to go to the Castle McDermott. Even Maeve agreed to their little jaunt and Taryn, to Pat's surprise, seemed rather excited about it. Katie had wanted to wait for her parents, but they had gone into town that morning and had left no word of when they would be back. And so, the group set off. Pat clung tightly to Hilary's arm, excitement and, oddly enough, nervousness being her main emotions. All the stories Judy had ever told about Castle McDermott were coming back to both of them. When they caught their first view of the castle, Pat had the oddest sensation that she and Hilary and Bets and Sid were all sitting in the Silver Bush kitchen, listening to Judy spin tales about the ghosts and other unfortunate inhabitants of the castle. Come to think of it, Pat couldn't remember one story about a happy resident of Castle McDermott.  
  
It was everything Judy had said. Memories washed over Pat as she walked around the castle. Memories so real, it was as if she were living her life over again. At one point, Pat could have sworn she even saw Judy, a very young Judy, disappearing around one corner just as they had rounded another. Pat was thoroughly entranced by this place, by this country. Was everything in Ireland this beautiful, this full of magic? She could see why Judy had missed it so. And Pat felt guilty all over again that Judy had never been able to come back to her homeland.  
  
"Sure, now, and wasn't my home with you, darlint?" said the unmistakable voice in her head. Pat tried to ignore it. But the voice continued.  
  
"Patsy, ye always did be falin' things a bit too much for yer own good. Don't go falin' guilty jist because a foolish auld woman cudn't bring herself to lave the people she loved. 'Twas my decision, Patsy. You and Cuddles encouraged me to go."  
  
"But we didn't want you to. Not really," replied Pat mentally.  
  
"Oh, oh, but ye didn't be sayin' that, did ye? 'Twas unselfish av ye to let me go, aven whin ye wanted me to stay. That's what love is, darlint."  
  
Pat did not argue further and the voice subsided. She was silent all the way back to the Plum house and Hilary began to worry about her. He voiced his concern and Pat merely laughed at him, kissed him on the cheek, and mentally resolved to not be so moody all the time.  
  
The afternoon was full of activity. The whole group went into town after lunch to look for Sean and Keelin and found them quick enough, but stayed for most of the afternoon. Pat bought even more gifts for her family, much to Hilary's amusement. And Hilary, unbeknownst to Pat, bought something as well. He stuffed it in his pocket, deciding to give it to his wife when they were home, in their own house.  
  
It was soon decided that Katie, Parker, Pat, and Hilary would stay one more night. Pat and Hilary's ship was scheduled to leave late the next afternoon. They could hop back over to England the next morning and get their things ready. Pat was secretly glad she had one more night with the Plums. She and Taryn were warming up to a friendship and Katie, well, that was a friendship Pat was sure would last a lifetime.  
  
After dinner, the Plums entertained Hilary and Pat with several stories. Eamon, who had come over for dinner, told several Irish fairy tales and wove his stories in a manner that would have made Judy proud. Sean Plum, at the pleading request of his wife and children, sang a few songs in a rich baritone. Some were a bit rowdy, though very funny, and some were sad love ballads. He had an expressive voice and Pat was thoroughly captivated. As the evening wound down, she suddenly remembered the song she had heard Katie singing the night before and asked her to sing it again, but Katie refused.  
  
"No, no. I'm ashamed that the first time you heard it was from me. Only one person in this family can do justice to that song."  
  
Pat's eyes went to Sean immediately, but she was surprised when it wasn't his voice that answered Katie's hidden challenge.  
  
"Only if ye play the piano, Katie. That's the only way I'll be singin' that song."  
  
Katie nodded and went to the piano, which stood in the corner of the room. Taryn went and stood beside it and, after Katie played a short introduction, began to sing in a soft, low voice.  
  
You may travel far far from your own native land Far away o'er the mountains, far away o'er the foam But of all the fine places that I've ever been Sure there's none can compare with the cliffs of Doneen.  
  
Her voice was soothing and Pat closed her eyes, letting the sound wash over her as Katie joined Taryn and sang in harmony.  
  
Take a view o'er the mountains, fine sights you'll see there You'll see the high rocky mountains o'er the west coast of Clare Oh the town of Kilkee and Kilrush can be seen From the high rocky slopes round the cliffs of Doneen.  
  
It's a nice place to be on a fine summer's day Watching all the wild flowers that ne'er do decay Oh the hares and lofty pheasants are plain to be seen Making homes for their young round the cliffs of Doneen.  
  
Katie stopped singing as Taryn finished the song, her voice tinged with sorrow. Pat felt her head fall back against Hilary as Taryn lulled her to sleep.  
  
Fare thee well to Doneen, fare thee well for a while And to all the kind people I'm leaving behind To the streams and the meadows where late I have been And the high rocky slopes round the cliffs of Doneen.  
  
Taryn's voice faded away and Pat never knew it when Hilary gathered her in his arms as if she were a child and carried her up to their room.  
  
A/N: Next chapter, Hilary and Pat return home (after saying goodbye of course). What surprises are in store for them there? Will the firm take Hilary's recommendation to hire Parker, or are Pat and Katie destined to be long distance friends?  
  
Thanks to all my kind reviewers. Silverfish, I'm glad you liked the mention of Johnny Cash and John Ritter in my last post. Their deaths just affected me so much, I had to put something in about them. Please review! And I need suggestions about a name for Hilary and Pat's kitten. I want to put it in the next chapter, but I can't come up with anything. Thought about using my own cat's name, but her name is Pepper and L.M. Montgomery already used that name in 'Pat of Silver Bush'. Please help! 


	7. Farewell to New Friends

A/N: Here I am again! Did you miss me? Sorry it's been so long, but hubby and I had a fight not too long after I posted the last chapter and I haven't been in the mood to write about happily married people. Now that everything is sunnier and happier in my world I can write about a happy marriage (Fear not. My marriage is happy, but not without it's little bumps).  
  
Meg - Appreciate your suggestion for the kitten's name. Not sure yet whether I'll use it. I guess we'll see what the kitten wants to be named in this chapter. (Any cat lover knows you can't just GIVE a cat a name. They have to choose one for themselves.) And you can find the tune to 'Cliffs of Doneen' on www.eirefirst.com. I guess I should have mentioned that in the last chapter. No copyright infringement intended.  
  
Silverfish - I never said the honeymoon was over, now did I? (Winks slyly). Of course, the trip itself is over, but the 'honeymoon' shall continue.  
  
Ruby Gillis - I am glad you're doing a fanfic on Marigold. She really was a delightful character and it's too bad more people haven't read that book (Hint to those uneducated in the wonderful realm of Marigold Lesley). I have read 'Scarlett' by Alexandra Ripley, and I did like it. Sort of. I'm a bit of a purist when it comes to 'Gone With the Wind'. I guess you could say it's my sacred cow.  
  
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The following morning was full of goodbyes, several of them rather tearful. Taryn, to Pat's amazement, was fighting tears as she said goodbye. There were promises to write from both sides and a gift from Sean and Keelin to Hilary and Pat.  
  
"'Tis an auld Irish wedding blessing," said Keelin. "No doubt Judy would've given ye the same. Or somethin' like it."  
  
The blessing in question was hand written in beautiful calligraphy over a scene of the Irish coast and framed in a richly hued wood frame. At the top of the frame, there was a figure carved out and Hilary asked what it was.  
  
"A claddagh," answered Katie. "A symbol av friendship, loyalty, and love. The two hands are a symbol of friendship. They hold the heart which, av course, symbolizes love. And the crown on top av the heart symbolizes loyalty. It's a traditional Irish symbol."  
  
Pat's eyes filled with tears as she read the blessing out loud.  
  
"May God be with you and bless you.  
  
May you see your children's children.  
  
May you be poor in misfortune, rich in blessings  
  
May you know nothing but happiness from this day forward."  
  
And Hilary, who had hoped the tears were over with, refrained from rolling his eyes as Pat wept fresh ones. There were hugs all around, for the third time, and, somehow, they found themselves back on the boat headed for England.  
  
Once on British soil, the company parted ways. Hilary and Pat returned to the hotel to make sure everything was ready for their journey home. Katie and Parker were going home to put their younger children down for much needed naps. They all planned to meet up again at the docks to say their final goodbyes.  
  
Pat was full of mixed emotions as she checked and double checked their bags while Hilary was downstairs taking care of the bill. On one hand, she couldn't wait to get home. To tell Father and Mother about the Plums, to see her new home with Hilary, and to settle into an everyday routine. Pat thrived on routines. But on the other hand, she had enjoyed roaming about with Hilary. She had grown to love Judy's relatives and had found a lifetime friend in Katie Bowen. What if Hilary's firm decided not to hire Parker? She and Katie might never see each other again. The thought was not a welcome one and Pat, to her everlasting irritation, found that she was crying again. She looked at herself in the mirror with a stern expression.  
  
"Patricia Gordon, you stop that right now," she told the reflection. Her reflection complied easily enough, but, inside, Pat fought the terrible urge to keep crying her eyes out. What was wrong with her anyway? Why was she so emotional all of a sudden?  
  
Hilary came bursting into the room at that point, nearly scaring Pat out of her skin. His eyes settled on her for a moment and they darkened to a stormy grey. Pat wasn't sure if she liked this expression too much. Turning, he locked the door to their room and Pat backed away from him a little.  
  
"Hilary, I'm not sure what I've done to make you angry, but I'm sure we can discuss this rationally."  
  
He came towards her still, those stormy eyes fastened on her. Pat was sure she had never seen Hilary like this. He seemed..angry? No, not angry. Not even upset. Looking closer at her husband, Pat soon realized what he had in mind.  
  
"Hilary, we've a million things to do before we leave this afternoon. I need your help to make sure everything is done and ready to go."  
  
"We've barely had a moment alone together since we first met Parker and Katie. They're wonderful people, Pat. I won't deny it. But now we're all alone, on the last day of our honeymoon-."  
  
"Actually, the honeymoon isn't over until we get home," Pat interjected. Hilary ignored her interruption as he put his arms around her waist.  
  
"Actually," he finally said in response, "this honeymoon is never-ending. Our marriage is a honeymoon, Pat. You will always be my bride. No matter how many rough times we have, no matter how many children are running around at our feet, you are forever a bride to me."  
  
His tone was low and caressing and Pat felt herself melting away before his lips even touched hers.  
  
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As Pat and Hilary left the hotel that afternoon, they were stopped by the desk clerk. (A/N: Is that the appropriate title? Having never stayed in a fancier hotel than the 'Holiday Inn', I wasn't sure.) He handed Hilary a slip of paper and then scurried off. Pat watched him for a moment, thinking with more than a little amusement that he looked exactly like a little squirrel. What the similarity was, she couldn't be sure, but she knew it was there. When she looked back at Hilary, his face had lit up.  
  
"What is it, Hilary?"  
  
"It's the firm. They're reserving a ticket for Parker next week on a ship. They've decided to hire him, Pat! Parker and Katie will be living near us!"  
  
Right there in the lobby, Hilary picked Pat up and swung her around. Most people smiled as they walked by, chalking it up to 'newlyweds'. But Pat's Gardiner sensibilities soon took over.  
  
"Hilary Gordon," she whispered viciously, "you put me down this instant."  
  
He set her down, but refused to look properly chastised. Pat straightened the hat on her head and smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles in her skirt, muttering about 'for all the world to see' and 'no sense of decency'. But, secretly, she was terribly happy and Hilary knew it. They hurried down to the docks, eager to share the news with their friends.  
  
Katie and Parker were overjoyed to hear the glad tidings, though Pat saw that Katie had a few misgivings. Leaving her family would be hard, Pat knew. So she cheered her with stories of Canada and of Silver Bush and with the thought that they wouldn't live too far apart. The fact that they would see each other again didn't make the parting much happier, though. Pat and Katie both cried. Little Keelin looked a little glum. Bryson wouldn't let go of Hilary unless Pat took him. Then he wouldn't let go of Pat. From the deck, waving her handkerchief, Pat could see Bryson still crying and Parker trying desperately to calm him. She felt a little lonely until a warm hand covered hers and she looked up into Hilary's eyes. Prospects became brighter then and they went to explore the ship.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
COMING HOME  
  
Mary Gardiner was sitting in the 'parlor' sewing on a delicate little baby garment to send to her youngest daughter. Long Alec sat in the chair beside her, reading the newspaper. Sid was in the kitchen, rustling around for a 'liddle bite'. May had gone to bed early, complaining of a headache, though everyone knew she had nothing of the sort. Unfortunately, things had not changed much with Sid and May. There had been improvement for a while, but it seemed to have reached a plateau. Now, instead of arguing, they simply didn't speak to one another.  
  
A sudden, urgent knocking at the door got everyone's attention. Sid bounded out of the kitchen with unusual energy and opened it to reveal his little sister.  
  
"Pat!" he cried before enveloping her in a fierce hug. The name brought everyone to the door. Mother was laughing, Sid was grinning, and Dad, his usual reserved self, smiled at his daughter and son-in-law. Soon, Pat was telling them all about England and Ireland and, more specifically, the Plums. But there wasn't time for long, drawn-out stories. Being a mother, Mary Gardiner soon packed her daughter and son-in-law off to bed. They had had a long trip and she wasn't going to have them collapse from exhaustion in her home. Pat felt, as her head hit the pillow, that now she was truly home.  
  
The next morning dawned bright and clear. Pat was up with the sun, back into her old routine. She practically skipped down to the kitchen and began making breakfast for everyone. Mother came in not ten minutes later and gently scolded Pat for not being in bed where she was supposed to be.  
  
"I'm not sick, Mother," Pat protested. "I haven't really had a chance to cook since the wedding. Please let me do this."  
  
Mother relented, but insisted on helping. Sid and Dad were down next, followed by May, who hadn't come down the night before. She greeted Pat cordially before sitting down at the table. Hilary, characteristically, was the last one at the table. He sat down just as Pat was finishing the breakfast.  
  
Breakfast was a bit rushed for Dad and Sid. Pat or no Pat, there was work to be done on the farm. They left as soon as they were done. Hilary finished soon after, then went to help them. Pat knew he was glad to be doing something as well.  
  
"What would you like to do today, Pat?" asked Mother as they washed the breakfast dishes. Pat shook her head.  
  
"Nothing frivolous," she replied. "Do you have any chores I could do?"  
  
"Darling, you're a guest!" laughed Mother. "Don't tell me you want to do chores!"  
  
"But I'm not a guest. I'm family. Family doesn't count as guests. Now, what do you need done?"  
  
Mother could see that Pat would not back down.  
  
"Well, I suppose, after we're done with the dishes, you could help me with the washing."  
  
"And after that?"  
  
Mother was silent. She didn't want her daughter to work on a house she didn't live in. Pat pursed her lips.  
  
"I'll tell you what, Mother. Why don't you go see Winnie today? Visit with her and the children. I'll take care of everything here. May has gone to her mother's and there's no sense in you doing everything around here today. I hereby give you the day off."  
  
A small argument followed, but Pat emerged victorious. Mother went to Winnie's and Pat went to work. She did the washing, the floors, the windows. The silver was polished within an inch of it's life. She dusted and wiped every knick-knack, every corner. Pat was in her element. Lunch was ready when Hilary, Sid, and Long Alec came in and then Pat went back to work. Mother got home in mid-afternoon and was greeted with a sparkling house and rather dirty daughter. Pat was sent to clean up while Mother cooked dinner.  
  
Pat came down from her room refreshed. Hilary marveled at the sparkle in her eyes and hoped that sparkle wouldn't disappear when he got her to their home. Dinner included Winnie, Fred, and their children. There were presents for all. Pat and Hilary wove tales of their travels well into the night. Everyone was amazed that they had met Judy's relatives and no one wanted to leave. But Winnie's children had to get to bed. Dad and Sid had work to do in the morning, as did Mother. And May, once again, had a headache. Hilary and Pat settled into their last night at the Bay Shore. Tomorrow, they would be home for real.  
  
A/N: Poor little kitten! I still haven't got a name for it. Only two more chapters, I think, and that's all for this story. I'm working on a new one in my mind. Who wants me to continue? You must review. I can't see your hands raised. 


	8. Coming Home

Disclaimer: I own none of L. M. Montgomery's characters.  
  
A/N: I've decided to post two chappies at once. Just felt like it. Please, please, please review. I shall plunge into the 'depths of despair' if you don't. (  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Pat felt rather sad as they left the Bay Shore farm the next day. Though the short time with her family had been wonderful, it was the first time Pat had really realized she didn't belong there anymore. She was supremely happy with Hilary, of course, but leaving one's family behind is never a pleasant experience.  
  
She fell into a rather fitful sleep on the train. Pat had hoped to keep their as yet unnamed kitten with her and Hilary. But they had insisted on putting the poor thing in the boxcar with other baggage and pets. She was worried about her Silver Bush kitten and, during her short nap, dreamed that the kitten's carrier had fallen off the train.  
  
Hilary woke her as they neared their stop. He knew Pat would want to make herself a little more presentable. Laura, Hilary's secretary, was supposed to meet them at the station with Hilary's car, and Pat wanted to make a good impression. Just as she was finishing her little touch-ups, the train began to slow down. Pat found to her amazement that she was terribly nervous. She suddenly realized how much she wanted Hilary's friends to like her. Hilary took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze as they stepped onto the platform. Among the sea of people, Pat wondered which one was Laura Patterson. She didn't have to wait long to find out.  
  
"Hilary, you're home!"  
  
Hilary barely had time to brace himself before he was enveloped in a hug. As Pat was soon to learn, Laura didn't have much regard for what she called 'unnecessary propriety'. To Laura, Hilary was like a son, though he was only a year younger than she, and she treated him like she treated her own two sons. Turning to Pat, however, Laura did blush a little.  
  
"I'm sorry. You must think I'm terribly rude. I'm Laura Patterson. And you must be Pat. Or would you like me to call you Mrs. Gordon? Of course, that's the proper thing to do. Hilary and I, we don't waste time with 'proper' titles and such. But if you prefer Mrs. Gordon, that's fine with me. But you must call me Laura. Hilary has told me so much about you but his description didn't half do you justice. You're very pretty, Mrs. Gordon. You mustn't mind my little hug. I think of Hilary as one of my children. I have three, you know. Oh, but listen to me babbling on. I'm sure you're tired after such a long trip. The car's just down there, Hilary. Why don't you two go on? I'll settle everything with the luggage."  
  
As quickly as she had come, she was gone and Pat was left feeling a bit dazed. She looked up at Hilary, who laughed at the expression on her face.  
  
"She's a whirlwind, isn't she? But she's one of the most organized people I've ever met. Several of the men at the firm envy me for my secretary. But not one of them had the sense to hire her when she first applied for a position there."  
  
Pat had begun to recover her senses as Hilary steered her towards the car. Her mind replayed the scene. Laura did seem like a wonderful person. Any thought of jealousy Pat might have had about the hug had evaporated during Laura's speech. Obviously, she was simply a vivacious woman with a very big heart. Pat concentrated on Laura physically, trying to imprint her in her mind. She wasn't pretty in the universal sense of the word, but she was very striking. Laura was tall, taller than Pat by about an inch or two, with dark red hair and violet eyes. Her complexion was dark for a redhead and her mouth curled up at the ends, as if she were always giving you a hint of a smile. But Pat, as she ruminated on this, concluded that all these things gave Laura Patterson more of a distinction.  
  
They reached the car and Pat realized she didn't really want to sit yet. It seemed to her that she had been sitting long enough. Hilary agreed and so they stood there, waiting for Laura. Pat took the chance to ask about Hilary's secretary again. She had asked him about Laura a week after they were married, but he had refused to discuss anything related to his job, even Laura. Now, though, he related more about her.  
  
"I hired her about a year ago. She seemed unconventional and I always have liked unconventional people. We got along famously from the start. She mothered me to death, Pat, and I enjoyed every minute of it. We became friends and I started going with her and her children to the movies, over to their house for dinner and things like that. I tell you this, Pat, because it's entirely likely that you'll be hearing some rather vicious gossip these next few months."  
  
Hilary's eyes flashed dangerously despite his attempt to control his emotions. Even now, he was hurt and angry by the accusations that had circulated around his office about Laura and himself. At the time, he was only angry for Laura's sake. But, now that he had Pat, he had to protect her from these rumors.  
  
"Most of the rumors were innocent enough. Laura and I just laughed them off. It seems we began 'dating' right after I hired her. After a couple of weeks we were engaged. We thought it all very funny. Laura already knew about you. How much I loved you was no secret to her. She was the only one in my office that I had told about our friendship and things like that. Laura's very trustworthy and easy to open up to. In that regard, she reminded me of you a little. And I knew that Laura was still in love with her husband."  
  
"Who's her husband?"  
  
"Kenneth Patterson was his name. He and Laura met in college, married, and settled down in California. Kenneth was in the U.S. Navy. They had their three children there. You'll like those kids, Pat. Alan is eleven. He's the oldest. And the twins, Matthew and Margaret, are seven. But don't call them by those names. He prefers Matt and she is always called Maggie."  
  
"Where is Kenneth now?"  
  
"Well, it seems that he's been missing for the past six years. There was a bad storm one night while he was out at sea. When it was over, they couldn't find him. They searched everywhere, but there was no sign of him. Laura hasn't given up, though. She's convinced he's out there, somewhere. She only moved up here because her brother and his wife live here. They're the only family she's got left. When they decided to move back to the states, she declared she liked it here. She got a job, with me of course, and she and the children live in a little house not too far from us."  
  
"She must be a very strong woman," Pat remarked.  
  
"She is," agreed Hilary. "But nothing ever went on between us, Pat. I need you to believe that."  
  
"Why, Hilary, of course I believe it!" exclaimed Pat, shocked and more than a little worried that Hilary would think her incapable of believing him.  
  
"There are some people I work with, Pat, who just aren't very nice. They refuse to believe that a relationship between a man and a woman can be innocent. These people will be dropping hints and trying to get you upset over the next few months. You must ignore them."  
  
"I will, darling. How could they think such things about you? You're one of the most honorable men I've ever known and Laura certainly doesn't seem to be any different."  
  
As further evidence of her trust, Pat gave Hilary a kiss on his cheek and a fierce hug. Laura found them thus when she returned with a small, gray kitten.  
  
"They'll be sending the luggage to the house later on this afternoon," she explained. "I was sure, though, that you would want this package right away."  
  
Pat thanked Laura over and over for rescuing her kitten from the boxcar. In all the excitement, the kitten had been put on the back burner of Pat's mind. Now, Pat held her and cuddled her all the way to Laura's house until Hilary was quite disgusted. Laura found it all very amusing.  
  
Once they reached Laura's home, she insisted that they go on to their own house.  
  
"You've had a long trip. And the last thing either of you need is to be bombarded with questions from my three musketeers. You're both invited to our house tomorrow, of course. We'll have a picnic. How does that sound?"  
  
Both Pat and Hilary agreed to this plan and were soon on their way again. They didn't have to drive very far. Pat knew the house as soon as she saw it.  
  
"Oh, Hilary! It's wonderful!" she cried, grabbing his arm.  
  
Hilary shook her hand off his arm, trying to concentrate on his driving, but he couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. They pulled up to the house and Pat didn't even wait for Hilary to get out and open her door for her. She bounded out of the car and up the front steps, then turned around and waited for her husband. He purposely slowed his pace to irritate her a little. But once he was with her, she rewarded him with a spectacular kiss, ignoring the meek protests of the kitten she still held in her arms. When she pulled back, she was smiling up at him.  
  
"I'm home," she whispered. A light came into his eyes then and he whisked her up in his arms, kitten and all, and crossed the threshold into their home.  
  
A/N: All for now. Maybe one or two more chapters on this one. Then I'll start on the new story. But only if you want me to. Ruby Gillis-Thanks for the reply to my review on your Marigold story. I wish I could write one on Marigold but, alas, my 'Magic for Marigold' book disappeared somewhere between my parent's home and my new home when I got married. If any one knows where I could get another copy, please tell me. My local library only has three of the 'Anne' books (sad, isn't it) so I know they don't have that one. Read and review, please. 


	9. Of Matters Unjust

A/N: Okay, it doesn't seem like I'll have access to the internet for a while still. So I'll keep writing in the hopes that, someday, I'll find a computer where I can post these chapters. Who knows? Maybe I'll have a 'War and Peace' type novel written by then.  
  
Annie- Thanks for the review. I'm honored that someone who doesn't review much would review one of my stories. I really appreciate it.  
  
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Pat eyed her reflection in the mirror critically. She didn't really care to have her hair all swept up off her shoulders, but this was a formal party. Stepping back and twirling, Pat felt shamelessly vain. But, it couldn't be denied that this dress suited her perfectly. She was glad she'd be wearing it to this event. It was the first time she'd had it on since she had tried it on for Hilary the day she got it in London.  
  
Hilary came in at that moment and marveled again at the fact that he was married to this woman. They had only been home for four days. In that amount of time, Pat had somehow managed to get everything organized the way she wanted it. Hilary saw hints of Silver Bush here and there in his home now, but he loved it. Silver Bush, in a way, had been his home as well.  
  
Now, he watched Pat with a bit of amusement. What would Judy think of all this primping?  
  
"Don't tell me you've gotten materialistic on me, Pat," he said teasingly. The sound of his voice startled Pat and she jumped.  
  
"Hilary, I wish you wouldn't do that. It's a nasty habit you've picked up. And of course I haven't gotten materialistic. I just wish I didn't have to wear my hair like this. But I want to make a good impression."  
  
Hilary came up behind her and put his arms around her waist.  
  
"Oh, I don't know, Pat. Having your hair up does offer some advantages."  
  
"Such as?" Pat inquired, looking at her husband's reflection. He really did look handsome tonight.  
  
In response, Hilary kissed his wife on her neck. She shivered a little.  
  
"Oh, I see," were her next words. Then, "Mr. Gordon, I'm afraid I can't allow this. We have a dance to get to."  
  
"Can't we skip the dance?" pleaded Hilary. Pat laughed at the look on his face.  
  
"I'm afraid not. Especially since it's being hosted by the senior partner in your firm. Oh, what is his wife's name again?"  
  
Hilary smiled at the slight note of panic in Pat's voice. She had been trying to memorize the names of all his coworkers and their families in preparation for this formal dance.  
  
"Her name is Eliza. But, if I know her, you'll never be on a first name basis. Just call her Mrs. Powers."  
  
"Of course I will. Actually, I rather prefer Mrs. Powers over Eliza. I never have cared for that name."  
  
"Enough of names. I have a gift for you."  
  
Hilary pulled a box out of his pocket and opened it. He was rewarded with a small gasp from Pat.  
  
"Hilary, it's beautiful! When did you get it?"  
  
Hilary took the necklace out of the box and began to fasten it around Pat's neck.  
  
"I got it in Ireland. It was so beautiful and I thought it would go well with this dress. I wanted you to have something for the old cats to gossip about."  
  
The necklace in question was made of silver. The design was, Hilary explained, a Celtic knot. And, in the spots where the silver opened up, there were delicate rubies which sparkled brightly against Pat's skin.  
  
"I almost got the one with emeralds," he said. "But you don't have a green dress. And I did want you to have a necklace for this dress. Katie and Taryn helped me pick it out."  
  
"I love it," proclaimed Pat, her eyes sparkling. "But you really must stop giving me all these things, Hilary. We'll be in the poorhouse before you know it."  
  
Her husband merely smiled indulgingly as he escorted her down the stairs and out the door.  
  
TWO HOURS LATER  
  
Patricia Gordon was bored. Decidedly bored. The dancing was wonderful, when Hilary could whisk her away long enough to dance. Everyone wanted to meet Hilary Gordon's wife and, being the guest of honor, Pat felt obliged to chat with anyone who wanted to do so. And, already, she had begun to separate those who were genuinely pleased to meet her from those who were meeting her and hoping for a bit of juicy gossip.  
  
She had managed to overhear some remarks about Laura Patterson that had made her turn red with anger. She wasn't angry with Hilary or Laura, though. Her anger was solely directed at the remarks themselves and the people making them. Laura had quickly become someone to be defended in Pat's world. She mothered Pat just as she mothered Hilary. Pat had decided early on that she liked Laura very much. For tonight, she held her tongue. She didn't want to be rude when first meeting her husband's coworkers. In the future, however, she was determined to make it clear that any remarks about her husband and Laura Patterson were not going to be tolerated.  
  
At the moment, she was half-heartedly listening to a silly woman go on and on about the trials and tribulations her children were putting her though. Pat reflected that the only thing sillier than this woman's behavior was her name. She had introduced herself as Genevieve Ambrose. To be sure, both names were rather pretty in their own right, but if one put them together it sounded like the name of a heroine in some tragic novel. Not only that, but the woman certainly didn't look like a 'Genevieve Ambrose' should. She was short and a bit dumpy with pale blonde hair and round, staring blue eyes. Pat was passing the time thinking up a name that suited her better when Hilary came by and rescued her.  
  
Finding herself safe on the dance floor, Pat heaved a sigh of relief, prompting Hilary to laugh. She glared at him, but it did not have the desired effect.  
  
"I see you met our resident drama queen," Hilary said.  
  
"Mrs. Ambrose? What is her story, Hilary? Despite all the gossiping and exaggerating she did, I have the feeling that there was more to her than that."  
  
"Well, once upon a time, there supposedly was. From what I understand, little Mrs. Ambrose was the belle of Montreal. She married James Ambrose when she was seventeen, came here to Vancouver, had her children and proceeded to turn into a pale imitation of our own Mrs. Binnie."  
  
"Mr. Ambrose isn't cruel, is he?" inquired Pat, ignoring the reference to May's mother. She glanced at the man in question with slight disbelief. Mr. Ambrose had been very kind when meeting her and he didn't look like a cruel man. He looked rather jolly, actually, with silvery hair and warm brown eyes.  
  
"Mr. Ambrose? Cruel? Oh, no, no, no. James Ambrose is one of the nicest men I've ever known. It just seems that he doesn't really know what his wife wants half the time. He's well meaning, but misguided."  
  
Pat was reassured to know that her first impression of Mr. Ambrose as kind had been correct. He was really the only man she'd met so far that didn't intimidate her. Mr. Powers, their host for the evening, was very intimidating. He stood a good three inches taller than Hilary and had a more powerful build. His hair was black with silver streaks and he had, Pat thought, rather cold and calculating eyes. His wife had proven to be no different. Despite her warm welcome, Pat found her a bit haughty and condescending. She felt as if she didn't really belong in this world and she knew for a fact that Hilary didn't. But, if they didn't belong here then why were they here?  
  
"We're here because you insisted on coming," Hilary's voice said. It snapped Pat out of her pondering mode. Had she asked that question out loud?  
  
"I'm sorry, Hilary. I must have been thinking out loud."  
  
"You're not having a good time, Pat. It's okay to tell me that. I don't like this type of thing either. Everyone pretending to be something they're not. It irritates me. Of course, in a couple of months, things like this will be much better."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because Katie and Parker will be here with us, of course. Then we can all laugh about it afterwards."  
  
Pat's eyes danced at the prospect of discussing one of these 'formal parties' with Katie after the fact. But even that thought couldn't cheer her for long. She was dreadfully tired. Why was she so tired lately? Maybe it was just magnified by the fact that she really no longer cared to be here. But she smiled for all she was worth as Hilary whirled her around and no one was any the wiser.  
  
When the music ended, Mr. Powers came up to Hilary and Pat. His wife was by his side, smiling sweetly. Rather too sweetly, Pat thought.  
  
"Gordon, you have a fine wife," said Mr. Powers, drawing Hilary aside while his wife asked Pat about her family.  
  
"Thank you, sir," Hilary replied. "And thank you again for hosting this party. You really didn't have to."  
  
"Nonsense, nonsense! Of course I did. You're one of my top architects and you're also like a son to me. It does me good to see you finally settled down."  
  
Hilary merely nodded in reply. Like a son? This was new.  
  
"Now, Gordon, about this Bowen chap."  
  
"Yes, sir? What do you need to know?"  
  
"Oh, not a thing, not a thing. You've told me everything I need to know about him. Well, almost everything."  
  
Mr. Powers' voice became substantially lower and he drew Hilary further away from Pat, who was looking a little more lost with each passing minute. When he and Hilary were basically alone, Mr. Powers continued.  
  
"You didn't tell me everything about his family, though, Gordon."  
  
Hilary was perplexed. He thought he had filled Mr. Powers and the other partners in on everything about the Bowens.  
  
"But, sir, I told you he was married and had four children. I even gave you their names and ages."  
  
"Yes, you did. You certainly did. But, Gordon, you never once mentioned that thing about his wife."  
  
"I'm afraid I don't understand, sir."  
  
"Well, Gordon, it's like this. You didn't tell us his wife came from a somewhat lower class than he. Not only that, but she's Irish as well. These are things we need to know."  
  
"With all due respect, sir, I fail to see what that has to do with anything."  
  
Mr. Powers elaborated, ignoring the sparks that were beginning to show in Hilary's eyes.  
  
"Gordon, you're a good man and an excellent judge of character. In this regard, though, you've made a small mistake. Powers, Henderson, and Ambrose Architecture simply can't have a partner with a wife who is of somewhat less than desirable social status. I'm sure she's a very nice woman, but our reputation is on the line. All the partners are agreed on this, Gordon. We just can't hire Parker Bowen. You understand."  
  
Never in his life had Hilary Gordon been so angry. This was unjust and utterly unfair. And Parker was already on his way over to Canada by now.  
  
"No, I'm afraid I don't understand, Mr. Powers," he replied through clenched teeth. "Parker Bowen is one of the finest architects I've ever known. One of the finest men, for that matter. And his wife is no different."  
  
"Come, come, Gordon, be reasonable."  
  
"I'm being unreasonable? How am I unreasonable? Because I don't judge people by how much money they have or what country they're from? If you'll recall, Mr. Powers, I myself am from a 'somewhat less than desirable' background. At least, according to your standards. Why did you hire me?"  
  
"That was different. You're Canadian. Born and bred on Prince Edward Island. And we found nothing of concern in your background. Or your wife's for that matter."  
  
Hilary was too angry to speak. He simply glared at Mr. Powers who, despite the fact that he was bigger and taller than Hilary, flinched at the intensity in the young man's eyes. Without a word, Hilary began walking back to Pat. He took her by the hand and whispered through clenched teeth.  
  
"Come on, Pat. We're leaving this place."  
  
Pat looked up in surprise, but, after seeing Hilary's face, didn't utter a word of protest. She followed him to the front door, where Mr. Powers caught up with them. He had had time to recover from Hilary's glare and was now angry himself.  
  
"If you walk out that door, Gordon, don't bother to show up in the office on Monday."  
  
Hilary regarded Mr. Powers with a look that could only be described as disgust, as if Richard Powers were the lowest form of life on Earth. Pat was shocked at both Mr. Powers' statement and Hilary's behavior. In all the years they had known each other, she had never seen Hilary be contemptuous of someone.  
  
"You couldn't drag me back, Powers. I'll have my secretary gather up my things."  
  
And they were gone. Pat found herself standing outside, bewildered. She didn't speak. She was rather afraid to. Unsure of what she should do, she merely followed him to the car. When she looked back, she saw Mr. Ambrose standing on the steps of the Powers home, watching them drive off.  
  
A/N: Okay, end of that chapter. Aren't I mean? Well, fear not. I'm sure the next chapter will be up soon. So, how is everyone? Doing good, I hope. Okay, now I'm babbling. Really, I'm writing this at work (it's a bit slow here today) and I don't have anyone to talk to. So, I'll just talk to you. Ruby Gillis - Eagerly awaiting your next installment of your Marigold story. You're getting to be as bad as me about updating. ( Seriously, though, I hope everyone enjoyed these chapters. Read and review if you want more.  
  
"Trusty, dusky, vivid, true, With eyes of gold and bramble dew." - From 'Pat of Silver Bush' 


	10. Several Surprises

A/N: Thanks to my reviewers on the last chapter. I appreciate all reviews I get.  
  
PART ONE: AN IDEA  
  
The house was almost completely silent. Were it not for the fact that she could hear Hilary's footsteps as he paced in his 'study', Pat would've thought she was alone. When they had gotten home, she could tell he was not ready to talk yet. So, when he went into his study, she went upstairs and changed into a more comfortable dress. Now she stood in the kitchen, cooking a 'liddle bite'. Before long, she knew, Hilary would smell the food and join her. Then they could talk.  
  
Pat knew Hilary backwards and forwards. True to form, he soon appeared in the doorway and looked at her rather sheepishly. She studied him for a moment, trying to figure out the reason for his expression.  
  
"I apologize, Pat," he finally said. "I behaved horribly this evening."  
  
"I have an idea. Why don't you sit down and we'll talk about it? Then I'll decide whether your behavior merits an apology to me."  
  
He brightened visibly at this statement. Soon, they were both munching on some leftover chicken and Hilary began to open up. He told Pat that the firm would not hire Parker and the reason that Mr. Powers had given him. She understood that he could not work for people who were so unjust in their reasoning.  
  
"But, Hilary, whatever will we do about money?"  
  
"I'm not sure, yet, Pat. I am thankful that I've saved money almost all my life, though. We'll be alright, I think, until I find another position. We'll just have to budget."  
  
"Oh, that won't be too hard. I'll cut corners wherever I can. What about Parker, though? What will he do? It just doesn't seem right, Hilary, that he will come all the way across the Atlantic only to find that the job has been taken away from him."  
  
"I know. But Parker's very talented. And not all the firms around here are like mine. I'm sure he'll be able to find a position."  
  
Pat started to say something else, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. She and Hilary exchanged curious looks. Who on earth would be calling at this hour? Pat went to answer while Hilary cleared away the picked bones of the chicken.  
  
"Mr. Ambrose! Mrs. Ambrose!" exclaimed Pat when she opened the door. She was a bit dumbfounded for a minute but soon found her tongue. "Please, won't you come in?"  
  
The Ambroses did just that. Pat found herself thanking the heavens above that she had dusted that very morning. She led them into Hilary's study, which also doubled as a parlor, and took their hats and wraps.  
  
"I apologize for my appearance," she began, but Mr. Ambrose cut her off.  
  
"Nonsense," he said. "You certainly weren't expecting any company at this hour were you? I am sorry for barging in on you so late, but I had to have a word with you and your husband."  
  
"That's quite alright, Mr. Ambrose. Can I get either of you anything to drink? Mrs. Ambrose, you look as if you could use some water."  
  
"I could, actually," was the reply.  
  
"I'll only be a minute," Pat assured her. She went back to the kitchen where Hilary was washing up the dishes. He looked at her expectantly as she got a glass.  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Ambrose are here. Mr. Ambrose said he needed to speak with you. And Mrs. Ambrose looks as if she's had a rather rough evening."  
  
Hilary nodded and went with Pat. When he entered the room, Mr. Ambrose stood up.  
  
"Gordon, I had to speak with you. I haven't come to ask you back, though there's no telling how many clients we'll lose because of Powers' stubbornness. I just wanted to let you know that I had nothing to do with the decision regarding Bowen. None of that social position nonsense matters to me. I'm telling you this because I respect you and, well, I'd hate to think that you thought less of me."  
  
Pat smiled. She knew there was a reason she liked Mr. Ambrose so much. Hilary was a bit taken aback. Pat didn't know what Hilary did. Mr. Ambrose and Mr. Powers had started the firm together. Ambrose, in fact, never made a move without Powers. It was a joke among workers in the firm that Ambrose was nothing more than a puppet, really. He never stood up to Powers about anything. That fact made Mr. Ambrose's next statement even more surprising.  
  
"I left the firm this evening, Gordon. Been wanting to do it for years but never had the courage until I saw you stand up to Powers tonight. I've come to ask you to start a firm. An architectural firm all your own, housed in an office building I own downtown. Until you get off the ground, you can base yourself there rent-free. All I ask is that you pay me rent once you get going and take that Bowen fellow on as a partner. There's some real talent there. I'm not too blind to see that. This town needs shaking up a bit. And, if you ask me, you're the one that can get it all started. Folks around here are too set in their ways. Parker Bowen's got some innovative ideas from what I saw in the sketches you brought back. And you've certainly got the talent to make it on your own."  
  
"Oh, do you really think so, Mr. Ambrose?" exclaimed Pat, forgetting herself in the excitement and putting her hand on his arm. Mr. Ambrose looked at her appreciatively. He smiled at her and felt a bit envious of Hilary. He remembered what it was like to be young and in love, just starting out in life. And he was determined that these two would have the chance he himself had never taken. To carve out their own niche in the world.  
  
"Think so, Mrs. Gordon? I know it to be a fact. Your husband's one of the most talented architects I've seen in a long time. We'll be losing some clients when they find out he's not with us any more. Or, I guess I should say Powers and Henderson Architecture will be losing some clients."  
  
Hilary had listened to all this with disbelief. The prospect of starting his own firm with Parker was indeed tempting. And a bit frightening as well. Suppose they failed. What would they do then? Parker had a wife and children to take care of. And then there was Pat. How would he and Pat get along if he did this and failed?  
  
But a pair of golden-brown eyes caught his and his fears of failure vanished. Of course he would succeed. Hadn't he succeeded in becoming an architect? Hadn't he succeeded in marrying the woman of his dreams? Pat's eyes telegraphed that he and Parker were destined to be a success. And Hilary soon found himself shaking hands with Mr. Ambrose and making plans to visit the building first thing Monday morning.  
  
TWO WEEKS LATER  
  
"I can't believe I'm letting you talk me into this, Hilary."  
  
"Oh, come on. We can do it. Just think of it, Parker. Gordon and Bowen Architecture. You and I starting our own firm? How could it be any better?"  
  
"Wait a minute, wait a minute. What's wrong with Bowen and Gordon Architecture?"  
  
"Not a thing. Whatever you want. It'll be an adventure, almost, Parker. Granted, it won't be easy at first, but we can do it. I've already got three clients and I'm not even an official firm."  
  
"I don't know," Parker hesitated. He was, by nature, a rather cautious man. And he did have his wife and four children to consider. It was at that moment that Pat came in and delivered the final blow to his resistance.  
  
"Katie would want you to do it."  
  
She spoke the truth, Parker knew. His wife was always the one to embrace a new chapter in their lives. He was the one having trouble. They would manage. Hilary had already promised his help to build a house. They had even offered to let Parker and Katie and the children live with them until their house was finished. An offer he had no intention of taking them up on, but it was reassuring to know they had friends that cared about them that much.  
  
"Alright," he heard himself say. "Let's do it, then."  
  
PART TWO: PREPARATION  
  
Pat was ecstatic. In anticipation of Parker's arrival, she and Hilary had been fixing up the old office building to look like a place of business. It wasn't falling apart by any means, but it hadn't been used for over five years. Cleaning had been the order of the day. Laura came by in the evenings with her brood to either visit or help with the cleaning and decorating of the new office. She, too, had quit the firm and taken a temporary position in a department store. Hilary had promised she would have her old position as soon as he was able to pay rent to Mr. Ambrose.  
  
Ambrose himself grew more and more excited with every passing day. Pat and Hilary spent their days at the new office fixing it up and Mr. Ambrose popped in at least once a day, if not twice. Mrs. Ambrose only came once. It was plain to see that she was rather upset by this turn of events. It meant her social circle had been depleted. But it was obvious that she was rather fond of Pat. Most people couldn't help but be fond of Pat.  
  
Pat, unknowingly, had already made friends in the upper social circle of Vancouver. Hilary's clients, old and new, were greeted with her smile when they walked through the door of Gordon and Bowen Architecture, for Pat had stepped into Laura's shoes until they could afford to rehire her. The clients looked forward to seeing her and talking with her almost as much as they looked forward to seeing the plans Hilary and Parker were preparing for them.  
  
When she wasn't helping Hilary and Parker at their office, she was helping them with the plans for Parker and Katie's home. By a sheer stroke of fortune, Parker had been able to snap up some land just down the road from Hilary and Pat. Building a house, of course, meant a longer wait to bring Katie and the children over, but Parker could not be dissuaded. Slowly, the house took shape. Pat counted the days until Katie and Rae would be near her. She was sure they'd get along together famously.  
  
One day, not long before Katie and the children were due to start their journey to Canada, Pat received a letter from her. The contents of said letter made her even more excited.  
  
'My Dearest Friend,  
  
All is well here in Ireland. I suppose Parker told you that we had sold the house and moved in with my parents a few weeks ago. I sent him a telegram about it.  
  
I must confess, as the day for our departure draws nearer, I am becoming more and more nervous. I miss Parker terribly and I can't help but wonder if I'll feel this horrible once I'm away from my family. You understand, Pat, don't you? I would follow Parker to the ends of the earth, but the prospect of being so far away from my parents, brother, and sisters is a bit frightening.  
  
Here is some interesting news for you. To tell you the truth, I'm still trying to recover from the shock. I think my whole family is. Taryn announced two nights ago that she wants to come to Vancouver as well! I'm not sure what prompted this, but I think it may have something to do with a gentleman by the name of Will Danaher (A/N: Any Quiet Man fans out there?). He's been coming around for the past few weeks, spouting off about how a woman with two young boys shouldn't be alone and all that sort of thing. Really, Pat, he's even starting to get on my nerves. I think he might be wearing Taryn down and she wants to leave Ireland before he finally gets to her.  
  
Personally, I don't blame her a bit. Will isn't who I'd pick for a brother- in-law and he's not half the man Liam was. But, dearest Pat, here is my problem. I cannot imagine where Taryn will go once we get there. She has no real professional skills. None that would do her any good in Vancouver, anyway. She's confident she'll find a place to live and a place to work, but I'm worried. I don't want my sister living in some rundown city house or apartment. There won't be room for three more people at our house and, from what Parker said in his last letter, the last thing you need at the moment is two young boys tearing around your own house.  
  
In regards to that, Patricia Margaret, you really should've written me yourself. I can't believe I found out my best friend was expecting her first child by reading about it in my husband's letter. Now that I'm done scolding you, I'll get back to my point.  
  
If you have any ideas for Taryn, please send me a telegram. I need some advice from you.  
  
Yours Truly,  
  
Katie'  
  
Pat sighed as she folded the letter up. She really should've written Katie the moment she found out about the baby, but things had been so hectic. Placing her hand on the tiny bulge that was her child, she began to pace the room, trying to think of something for Taryn. Where would she find a job? Laura had finally been able to take her old position back, but they weren't so busy that she couldn't handle it all herself. The only jobs Pat could think of were in a department store or watching children. Taryn hadn't the skills for a job in an office.  
  
She showed Hilary the letter that night and his face brightened.  
  
"That's perfect! She can work for us!"  
  
"Pardon me?" was a confused Pat's reply. Business had been good from day one, but she knew the firm didn't have the extra money for another payroll check. Not yet, anyway.  
  
"No, not the firm. For you and I. She can help you with the cleaning and cooking. Things like that."  
  
Pat was indignant.  
  
"Are you telling me, Hilary Gordon, that I am not taking care of this household properly?"  
  
Seeing he had some fast talking to do, Hilary wasted no time.  
  
"Of course not. Don't misunderstand me. I mean for later. Taryn's coming with Katie in just a little over a month, right?"  
  
"That's what Katie says."  
  
"Well, then, we'll use that time to find her a place not far from our house. Normally, I'd say she could stay here, but I think Katie's right. You don't need Brendan and Aidan running around, making all kinds of noise. I know they're good boys, but boys will be boys. Now, you're going to need to start taking it easier, Pat. If you ask me, I think you're doing entirely too much as it is. Taryn can help you out. Don't you see, Pat? We'll pay her to help you. She'll have a job."  
  
"First of all, do we have the extra money for this? And second of all, will we be able to pay her enough to support herself and two growing boys?"  
  
Hilary seemed stumped for a moment. The answer to the first question was yes. Ever protective of Pat, he had been considering hiring some help for her since the moment she had told him about the baby. He had made room in their budget for help. But the second question was a problem. How could they pay her enough to cover her home, food, and other necessities? Without a word, Hilary turned and walked out of the room. Pat smiled slightly. This had become normal. Whenever he needed time to think on something, Hilary would lock himself away in the parlor/study and pace back and forth. He rarely took very long doing this and Pat did not resent his withdrawal in the slightest. Everyone needed time to themselves now and then.  
  
He reappeared just a few minutes later, face aglow with a new idea. Pat wondered what he was up to.  
  
"I'll build her a house," he said triumphantly. His wife fixed him with an unbelieving gaze.  
  
"Where, Hilary? How? We've only got a few weeks before she gets here. You can't possibly build her a sturdy house in that amount of time."  
  
But Hilary was in no mood for reason. He had a challenge now and intended to face it.  
  
"We'll build it, my darling wife, on that strip of land between our property and Parker's property. It won't have to be as large as Katie and Parker's house. Not even as large as ours. But it will be nice. Oh, it will be very nice. I'll base it on her own home in Ireland, so she won't have to feel quite so homesick. Katie will help Parker and I with the details. She'll be in five minutes walking distance from both houses. Pat, this is the best idea I've ever had! This way, she won't have to pay rent to anybody. We can afford to pay her enough for the other things, I think. And, if not, I'll find some things for her to do in the office, maybe. Laura is getting a bit weighed down. She needs some help, really, and I'm sure Parker and I can find extra money in the budget for Taryn."  
  
Hilary's enthusiasm was contagious. Pat was soon convinced and Parker thought it a fine idea. The very next week, construction began on a little house for Taryn, Brendan, and Aidan. Hilary and Parker built it themselves, often working well into the night until Pat feared they would both collapse from exhaustion. They pooh-poohed her concerns and every night, after a quick supper, they would both set off for their building site. Sometimes, Pat knew for she checked the clock, Hilary wasn't home until 3 am. Both men had dark circles under their eyes, but they really did seem to thrive on all the work. Finally, exactly two days before Katie and Taryn's arrival, the house was finished. Just as Pat had expected they would, Hilary and Parker fell fast asleep not long after the last stroke of paint had been put on Taryn's home. Luckily, it was the weekend. While Hilary and Parker slept the day away, Laura and Pat went to get a few extra things for both Taryn and Katie. Things only women would think of.  
  
Everything was going so well. Katie and Taryn were going to be here in a matter of days. Rae would be coming soon, too. Gordon and Bowen Architecture was off to a flying start. And a tiny little life grew inside Pat every day. Pat sighed as she fell asleep the night before Katie and Taryn's arrival. What more could a woman want? Sleeping that night in Hilary's arms, she never dreamed of the twists and turns her life was about to take.  
  
A/N: All for now! I would write more, but I only had two reviewers on Chapter 9. (Pout, pout). Please, if you're reading this story, I beg you to review. I'm quite desperate and have absolutely no shame whatsoever. A little begging never hurt anybody. 


	11. A Visit Home and an Unexpected Announcem...

A/N: Once again, I find myself unable to post chapters, so here comes the second chapter.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Long Alec Gardiner threw a concerned glance towards his daughter as he drove back to the Bay Shore farm. He had been surprised at how tired she looked and was glad that she had come for a visit. Mary would make sure she got plenty of rest.  
  
The object of his concern was blissfully unaware that she had escaped one overprotective person only to go visit three more. Pat sighed contentedly as she watched all the familiar sights go by. It was nice to be back on the Island. But, oh, how she missed Hilary! For a moment, she almost wished that he had succeeded in keeping her home. Only for a moment, though.  
  
Rae was coming! And she was bringing her little son along, too! Pat had heard already about little William's first smile and first laugh, but she couldn't wait to see and hear them for herself. She was worried about Rae coming so far alone with the baby, though. Brook would arrive in three months, but Rae had suddenly decided to come early. Unbeknownst to Pat, Hilary had written and asked if Rae would come and be with her sister when she had her own child. He knew Pat wanted her there, even if she didn't say it out loud.  
  
Pat had insisted on meeting her sister the moment she set foot on Canadian soil. Hilary, who really was becoming just a bit overprotective, hadn't wanted her to travel. Suppose the baby decided to come while she was on her way to the Island! Pat had been dumbfounded by this statement. She had known of babies that came earlier than expected, but a whole two and a half months was just hard to believe. To humor him, she had gone to the doctor, who informed her that she would be just fine.  
  
Still, Hilary had remained unconvinced. He was genuinely, albeit needlessly, worried about his wife. It had taken the intervention of Katie, Taryn, and Laura before he had finally relented. Pat found his concern very sweet, but sometimes rather irritating. She wasn't an invalid, after all.  
  
Katie and Taryn's arrival one month ago had enabled Hilary to ease up some. Mostly because he knew Taryn and Katie were near Pat if she ever needed anything. Both women were mothers and had a better idea of what Pat was going through than Hilary did. They had done much to alleviate Pat's concerns about her size. She felt very unattractive at this point and, although Hilary did everything he could to assure her that he still thought her beautiful, her real support came from Katie and Taryn, who sympathized with her.  
  
"How's Hilary's business going?"  
  
Her father's voice broke into Pat's thoughts and she realized she must seem very rude. She had hardly said a word to Dad since they had gotten in the car.  
  
"It's going wonderfully, Dad. Hilary and Parker are really going to make a success out of it. In fact, they're meeting today with a new client. At least, they hope he'll be a new client."  
  
Pat's pride in her husband was evident and Long Alec thanked the Lord above once again that his daughter had finally come to her senses and married Hilary Gordon.  
  
"What about those friends of yours? How are they getting settled in?"  
  
"Fine. Oh, they're homesick of course, but I've done my best to make them feel welcome. I am so glad they've come. I can't wait for all of you to meet them. Oh, Dad, you're still coming to Vancouver for Christmas, aren't you?"  
  
"Well, Pat, it will seem strange not celebrating Christmas on the Island."  
  
"I understand, Dad. We had actually planned to come back here for Christmas. But with Katie, Parker, and Taryn moving to Vancouver and the baby only being a couple of weeks old, I just don't see how we could. You'll like our house, Dad. Hilary did a wonderful job. And I have the feeling you'll get along just fine with our new friends."  
  
"I'm sure I will. We all will. And of course we'll be there for Christmas. It wouldn't be Christmas without Pat Gardiner there."  
  
Pat smiled at the use of her maiden name. Her father couldn't refer to her as Pat Gordon any more than he had been able to talk of Winnie as Winnie Russell or Rae as Rachel Hamilton. To him, they were still his baby girls. Long Alec Gardiner never said this right out, of course, but Pat knew, nevertheless.  
  
The rest of the trip was spent in silence. Long Alec had never been much for idle conversation and Pat was quite content with simply looking at her former haunts as they drove by. She let memories flood over her and was quite unaware of how long they had been in the car until it came to a stop. Surprised, she looked up to see the Bay Shore farm. But the most welcome sight of all was the lady standing in the front doorway.  
  
Mother greeted Pat joyfully and, while Long Alec took the bags upstairs, she took Pat into the kitchen and served her some of the best food Pat could ever remember tasting. Pat was, of course, no slouch in the kitchen herself, but there's something about a meal made by a mother who loves you that makes it taste better than anything else in the world.  
  
It wasn't long before even Pat had to admit she was getting tired. Mother hustled her off for a nap, promising to wake her when Sid or Winnie came over. Drifting off to sleep, Pat thought again how nice it was to be with Mother and Dad again. But her last thought before entering a restful slumber was of Hilary and her own little house in Vancouver.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~LATER  
  
True to her word, Mother woke Pat up just a few moments after Sid and May arrived at the Bay Shore. Pat fixed herself up a bit before going downstairs. Expecting to feel an aura of tension in the household, she was surprised, but pleasantly so, when she felt no tension at all. Sid grinned at her when she came down and even May greeted her somewhat warmly.  
  
"How's my little sister?" asked Sid as he hugged Pat carefully. She almost laughed at the way he just barely put his arms around her.  
  
"Sid, I'm having a baby. I'm not made of china. Now give me a real hug."  
  
Sid complied, then pushed her back at arms length and pretended to give her the once over.  
  
"Well, I see I won't need to pay Hilary Gordon a visit. It looks as if he's taking care of you well enough."  
  
Pat sniffed at this remark and stuck her nose in the air playfully.  
  
"I can take care of myself, Sidney Gardiner. Thank you very much."  
  
She sat down in an overstuffed chair and immediately wished she hadn't. How was she going to get up without any help? Waving the thought aside, she jumped into conversation with her mother, who was eyeing her with amusement and wondering herself how her daughter would get out of that chair.  
  
"Did you get my letter about Taryn and Katie's arrival?" Pat asked her mother.  
  
"Yes, we did. And I am interested in finding out about their trunks. Did they ever get them back?"  
  
"Wait, wait, wait," Sid broke in. "What's all this about trunks? I didn't see this letter."  
  
Pat's golden-brown eyes danced with laughter as she began to recall the incident for Sid and May, who seemed content to listen for once.  
  
"Well, you see, it happened like this. Hilary, Parker, and I all met Katie, Taryn, and the children at the train station. I felt so sorry for them when they stepped onto the platform. I remember being tired after coming back from Europe, but there was only Hilary and me to see to. I couldn't imagine what it was like to cross the Atlantic with six high- spirited children. They looked exhausted. Hilary and Parker went to get some of their bags and have the other things sent to Katie and Parker's house later that day. I took them to where the cars were and we got the children settled in. Then we stood around and talked, waiting for Parker and Hilary to get back.  
  
But when they got back, they didn't have any bags with them. Everything, it seems, was missing. Katie was furious when she found out. Believe me, she must have inspired the phrase 'Irish temper'. She marched right into the station manager's office and demanded that he find their belongings. I felt rather sorry for the poor man. If he wasn't a praying man before Katherine Bowen entered his life, I'm sure he is now. He promised to find out whatever he could about the trunks. But, in the meantime, Katie, Taryn, and the children had to have some clothes. So, after traveling all that way, they still had to go shopping. Katie went down to that train station almost every day and terrorized that poor manager."  
  
"Sounds like Katie's quite a character," said Sid, grinning.  
  
"Oh, she is. Thankfully, they finally got their trunks. They arrived in Vancouver two weeks ago."  
  
Mother's eyes widened and Sid let out a long laugh.  
  
"Two weeks ago?" Mother questioned disbelievingly. "But that means they didn't have their things for two weeks. Didn't they arrive a month ago? Why did it take so long?"  
  
"Well, that's when it gets interesting. They finally found the trunks in Ottawa. Someone had unloaded them there by mistake. They put them on a train to Vancouver. But the train they put them on didn't stop in Vancouver. It went north to Prince George. So, then they had to get them on a different train to Vancouver. But the train went right through Vancouver, not stopping, until it got to Edmonton. Then it kept going back East. No one ever took the trunks off the train. Luckily, they finally caught them in Winnipeg and shipped them back to Vancouver. Amazingly enough, nothing was missing or broken."  
  
Sid was laughing too hard by this point to make any comment. Pat watched him with undisguised joy. When was the last time she had heard Sid laugh like that? True, her brother's laugh and smile still weren't as fully effective as they had once been, but he still seemed changed from the last time she had seen him. Pat switched her focus to May. She seemed different, too. Softer somehow and not so quick with harsh words. Pat resolved to get to the bottom of this, but any further thoughts were interrupted with the arrival of Winnie, Fred, and their children.  
  
Joe and his family arrived not long after that and a glorious dinner was soon being served. There was laughter and story-telling all around. Pat hungrily drank in every second of time with her family. Little Mary was growing so tall! She looked more like Winnie every time Pat saw her. And the twins were so adorable. Joe's oldest son looked so much like Long Alec that Pat wanted to laugh at the similarity. Everyone was in high spirits, anticipating the arrival of the baby of the family. But when Sid stood up, Pat immediately knew that, whatever he was about to say, it had nothing to do with Rae coming home. She never could have dreamed, however, that he would make this announcement.  
  
"I wanted to wait until Rae was here to tell everyone this," Sid explained, "but I just can't wait any longer. We've waited long enough. May and I are going to have a baby."  
  
A/N: Such a mean place to stop, I know. But that's why I'm posting two chapters at once. I'm not completely heartless. This story is becoming awfully long and I apologize. But I have so many ideas. I just can't stop.  
  
Silverfish: I agree with you completely on both counts. Hilary never really does get good and mad in the Pat books. I like writing people mad sometimes. And I knew I just couldn't keep him in some 'stuffy old firm' as you so eloquently put it. Thanks for reviewing. You're so consistent!  
  
Kizmey: Thanks for the suggestions for the name of the house. They were both beautiful. I'm still thinking. This is not a decision to be made lightly. Everything that Pat named in the books had some meaning to it and I want to keep that up. I'm still working on it.  
  
Ruby: Somehow I knew you were a 'Quiet Man' fan. I realize you were excited about Taryn and Katie arriving and I tried to write a chapter on that, but it just wouldn't come. So I had to content myself with a 'flashback' of sorts. I do apologize.  
  
Marzoog: I wouldn't be mean to Pat and Jingle. At least, not too mean. (grins slyly)  
  
Meg: I hope your homecoming went well. Did your team win? And you do have the most exasperating habit of picking up my mistakes, don't you? (smiles). To tell you the truth, I needed Taryn out in Canada so badly (all will be revealed later) that I didn't think the whole thing through. But I've thought about it now. See, if Hilary and Parker build the house together, then they can go in together on the cost. Since they're architects, they could probably get the materials fairly cheap with any contacts Hilary might have. And, with Parker having built his and Katie's house, there were also bound to be some materials left over from that project. I'm rambling, aren't I? Sorry. Nasty habit. Seriously, though, keep challenging me. I love it.  
  
Marie: Thank you for your review and for your constructive criticism. I hear and listen to your minor complaint about my Irish capabilities. I really wanted to incorporate Judy's family into the story. Sadly, my knowledge of Ireland is somewhat lacking. I have always wanted to travel across the Atlantic and see the home of my ancestors, but that takes money, of which I have none. So, for now, my knowledge of Ireland is limited to books and movies such as 'The Quiet Man'. My passion for the Island of Erin is legendary among my family and friends (I was even going to get married on March 17) but I hesitate when writing accents and the like. I beg of you to be patient with me. I can't promise much, but I assure you I will try harder. (Sorry for the long, flowery speech. Just read a novel about Tristan and Isolde, You know, the time of King Arthur and all that sort of thing. I seem to be in that mode now.) 


	12. Heart to Heart with Big Brother

A/N: Second chapter posted. I hope you like this one. Please read and review.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The room was utterly silent for a moment after Sid made his announcement. Then there came a sudden rush of hugs and 'congratulations' and expected questions.  
  
"How long have you known?" asked Pat. The crowd had died down around Sid a bit and the family was mostly concentrated around May.  
  
"About two months. I'm amazed we were able to keep it a secret. She was beginning to show a little."  
  
Pat did not reply. Her expression was unreadable and Sid became uneasy. He had been afraid of Pat's reaction to this. Worried that she would not take it well. She and May had never gotten along. Actually, he and May had never really gotten along either. But, ever since Pat's wedding, things had begun to change. The future looked a bit brighter to Sid now. He put a finger underneath his sister's chin and slowly raised her head so that her eyes met his. Pat was taken aback by the pleading look he gave her.  
  
"Pat, I realize this isn't easy for you. But please be happy for me. Be happy for us. May and I, we're getting along much better these days. Our house was just finished, we've got a baby coming. Pat, we haven't fought in almost six months. Not a harsh word has been spoken between the two of us."  
  
She found this a bit hard to swallow, but Pat bit her tongue. Sid sensed that he and his sister needed a little time alone. Under the guise of taking Pat out to get some fresh air, Sid escorted her on a walk through the fields of the Bay Shore farm. She was silent for a while, but Sid knew she would speak sooner or later. What she asked, though, was not what he had expected.  
  
"Do you love her, Sid?"  
  
The question stopped him in his tracks.  
  
"In what way?" he replied. Pat gave a short little laugh.  
  
"What an odd question to ask, Sid. You know in what way I mean. Do you love May as your wife? As your best friend?"  
  
"No, Pat, I don't. I don't think I'm capable of loving any one like that."  
  
He didn't add the word 'again' to the end of his statement, but it hung in the air between them. Pat almost flinched at the pain that momentarily flickered in her brother's eyes. So he did still love Bets. She had always thought so. But, if he loved Bets, then why did he marry May? Sid once again displayed his uncanny ability to read his sister's thoughts.  
  
"May needed me, Pat. Or, at least, she convinced me that she needed me. It felt- nice to be needed by someone who wasn't already part of my family. Of course, I found out soon enough that she didn't need me any more than I needed her. We shut ourselves off from each other and became enemies. Really, Pat, that shouldn't have happened. We were mature adults. We could've at least become decent friends. Life would have been more bearable for everyone concerned if she hadn't been such a nag and if I hadn't been such a coward. I just gave in to her every whim, Pat, no matter how selfish that whim was."  
  
"But why a baby, Sid? You want to bring a baby into this environment?"  
  
"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Pat. That isn't the environment anymore. Not since you and Hilary got married. May and I have a friendship, Pat. It's an odd relationship for a married couple to have, but it works for us. Both of us wanted children. May really does adore them and I like them, too. Perhaps it would be better if we loved each other passionately, but, in the end, doesn't friendship matter most?"  
  
The question was a good one and Pat knew Sid's statement to be true. After all, friendship is what had led to the love that she shared with Hilary. Maybe this friendship with May that Sid spoke of would lead to the same thing for them someday. But, remembering the look in her brother's eyes when he thought of Bets, Pat doubted that such a thing was likely.  
  
"Pat, you're not angry with me, are you?"  
  
Pat looked up at her brother and smiled her sweet smile.  
  
"Don't be silly, Sid. Of course I'm not angry with you. This whole thing just took me by surprise, that's all. If you're happy about this, then so am I. That's all I've ever wanted, Sid, is to see you happy."  
  
It was Sid's turn to smile and he hugged Pat fiercely, then drew back in shock. Pat laughed at the look on his face.  
  
"I don't think little Hilary likes to be squeezed quite so tight, Sid."  
  
"Was that a kick?" Sid asked, his eyes wide with awe. Pat took his hand and placed it on her stomach.  
  
"I forgot that Winnie never let you or Joe feel her babies kick. Here, press in just a little. He's in a very docile mood most of the time and you have to make him kick usually."  
  
Sid did as he was told and a smile lit up his face when the baby kicked again. They stood there for some time like that in silence before Sid decreed that it was too cold for Pat to be out any longer. Despite her protests, they started back to the house.  
  
"What makes you so sure it's a boy?" he asked Pat as they passed the barn.  
  
"Well, I don't know. I've just always referred to him as a boy. Strange, isn't it? Maybe it's because I've always wanted a boy first. So my daughters would have a big brother like you."  
  
Sid grinned sheepishly at that comment and then opened the back door for Pat to go in.  
  
THE NEXT DAY  
  
Rae's homecoming had contained everything except a marching band and red carpet. She laughed about it with Pat in the guest room as she unpacked a few things for her short stay at the Bay Shore.  
  
"Really, you'd think the Queen of England had arrived with all the fuss you made," she said, laying out some dresses.  
  
"No, not the Queen of England," Pat replied. "Someone much more important than that."  
  
Rae smiled and then sighed a little.  
  
"You miss Brook, don't you?"  
  
"Oh, Pat, I feel horrible without him. Like some part of me is missing. Three months seems an eternity. And he's so far away."  
  
Pat nodded in vague understanding. She had heard the same thing from Katie in her letters from Ireland before she came over. Pat herself couldn't imagine being so far away from Hilary for so long. She looked at the sleeping baby in her arms and ran a finger softly down his cheek.  
  
"But you'll be with me, Rae. And you'll get to meet Katie and Taryn. We'll keep you busy, I promise. And if we're not able to do the job completely, I'm sure little William will have no trouble filling in your free time. He's so adorable, Rae."  
  
William was one of the most beautiful babies Pat had ever seen. She had been amazed at how much he looked like Cuddles, with his blonde curls and violet eyes. And he had been so good ever since they brought him back to the Bay Shore farm.  
  
"I hope my baby is half as good as he is," Pat said. Rae laughed her silvery laugh and Pat's heart warmed to the sound.  
  
"Oh, he can be a terror when he wants to be," said William's mother. "And you'll see plenty of that, Patricia Gordon, once he gets settled in Toronto."  
  
"I find that hard to believe," Pat replied, defending her nephew. "He'll be just as good as his mother was."  
  
"I think you're just remembering the good parts about my infanthood, my darling sister. Sid and Joe have told me several times about my crying fits and so on."  
  
"You never had a crying fit in your life, Rachel Doris Hamilton. Your brothers don't know what they're talking about."  
  
Rae laughed again, then suddenly became serious. She sat down on the bed next to Pat, who wondered what was on her sister's mind.  
  
"What do you think about Sid and May having this baby?"  
  
So that was it. Rae must have the same concerns that Pat herself had. Pat did her best to explain things to Rae without telling her everything Sid had said. There were some things, Pat knew, that were to just be kept between Sid and herself.  
  
"May was far from being our first choice for a sister in law, Rae. But she and Sid seem to have found common ground. They want this baby. And I think it's changing their relationship for the better."  
  
"You don't think they're in love, do you?"  
  
"No, Rae, I don't. And I don't think they ever will be. But they seem happy enough and content with this friendship they've forged. Our support means a lot to Sid, Rae. I think it means something to May, too."  
  
Rae stood up and finished laying things out for herself and William. She had been told of May's pregnancy upon her arrival at the Bay Shore farm. It had thrown her for quite a loop and she was still trying to make sense of it all.  
  
"I'll do my best to be happy for them, Pat, but I have a bad feeling about this whole thing. I guess you could say it's a premonition. Somehow, I don't think all this will end happily."  
  
Although she hated to, Pat agreed with her sister. She wasn't sure what was going to happen, but she felt as if there was an unhappy event in her brother's future.  
  
A/N: Next chapter- Pat and Rae return to Vancouver. 


	13. The Biggest Change of All

A/N: Okay, so I'm posting three chapters at once. I didn't lie the first time, honest. I just didn't know that ff.net was going to be down when I tried to post the other two.  
  
VANCOUVER TRAIN STATION  
  
"Hilary, Patsy won't be gettin' here inny faster if ye kape pacin'."  
  
Hilary looked at Katie, who was smiling at him. He knew she was right. Pat had only been gone a little over a week. But those were days he could've done without. He had missed her horribly and, despite Katie and Taryn's attempts to reassure him, he was still worried about her. A train whistle in the distance cut off his reply and he looked eagerly in the direction of the sound.  
  
Taryn thought he looked like a little boy in a candy store. As soon as the train came into view, Hilary's face lit up like a Christmas tree. For a moment, Taryn Findlay felt a rush of jealousy towards Pat. These bouts of envy towards Pat and even towards Katie came and went, but they never lasted. Taryn was not the type of person that would be made bitter. But she was still very much in love with Liam and her arms ached to hold him again.  
  
But Hilary was blissfully unaware of his new friend's feelings. Actually, Hilary was unaware of anything else the moment his wife set foot on the platform. He barely glanced at Rae, choosing instead to gather his wife in his arms and kiss her passionately. Parker pretended to find something of interest in the sky above while Katie chose the ground to concentrate on. Rae absorbed herself in her son and Katie started fiddling with a pin on her dress.  
  
Pat herself was in shock. But it was such a nice shock. She wished the kiss didn't have to be broken, but knew that was impossible. She also recognized it as her duty to chastise her husband for making such a scene. Reluctantly, she pulled back.  
  
"Really, Hilary," she began, "you could choose a more suitable place for such a display. All these people."  
  
Her husband grinned maddeningly in reply. No one around them thought Pat was angry for one second. Her eyes betrayed her true feelings. Hilary turned to Rae and gave her a big hug. There were introductions all around. Hilary and Parker went for the bags and returned with the welcome news that all Rae's belongings had arrived in Vancouver without touring the rest of Canada first.  
  
Rae fell in love with Pat and Hilary's home the moment she saw it. It was such a dear house and Rae felt, when she stepped through the door, almost as if she had stepped back in time. She wondered if Hilary had purposely thrown in some similarities to Silver Bush. Pat happily showed Rae to her room. It was a room that Pat had taken great care to fix up especially for her sister. The room was the largest of the guest rooms, bright and airy, with the special touch that only Pat could give to a room.  
  
As Rae looked around the rest of the house, she realized that Pat had never told her the name of her home. She found Pat in the kitchen, cooking supper, and inquired about the house's name.  
  
"Oh, Rae! Did I forget to tell you in my last letter? You are standing in the kitchen of Wind Song."  
  
"Wind Song? That is an interesting name. Why did you name it that?"  
  
Pat's eyes glimmered with mischief and the only answer she would give was a cryptic, "You'll see".  
  
That was all Rae would get out of either Pat or Hilary. And, over the next couple of weeks, she did begin to see. Any time the wind blew, whether it was rough and strong or calm and gentle, she could hear it as it whistled through the leaves in the trees outside. The sound was never frightening, as some winds usually were. Rather, there was a strange sort of comfort in that music of the trees. Pat and Hilary's home contained an otherworldly charm that not even Glen Cairn, Parker and Katie's house, could boast of.  
  
Rae felt completely at ease with her sister's friends. She was especially drawn to Taryn and could often be found over at her little house, Cinderleaf. These two struck up a bond that surprised Katie and Pat, yet pleased them at the same time. Perhaps the bond was forged through their fierce love for Pat. Pat really wasn't herself these days and even Rae was beginning to worry about her sister.  
  
One day, just a little over a month after Rae had arrived at Wind Song, Pat began sniffling. She shrugged off Hilary's concerns, assuring him that she just had a small cold and would likely be over it in a couple of days. Even Rae wasn't worried. Pat was taking good care of herself. The cold would just run it's course.  
  
But the cold had other plans. By the end of the week, Pat was running a rather high fever. The doctor was sent for and ordered her to bed for the remainder of her pregnancy. Pat was in danger of developing pneumonia. Hilary refused to go to work until Rae convinced him that, if he stayed home, Pat would only worry about the business. He was comforted by the knowledge that Rae, Katie, and Taryn took turns sitting with Pat all day. She was never alone and, therefore, never lonely.  
  
Pat chafed at being kept in bed. It was even worse than the time she had been recovering from scarlet fever. Then, she had been very weak and not too worried about things outside her room. Now was completely different. After only a few days in bed, Pat was very bored. She longed to roam around her house, to put the finishing touches on the nursery she, Hilary, and Rae had been decorating. But Hilary and Rae were a force to reckon with, not to mention Katie and Taryn. And so the days passed uneventfully at Wind Song for a little while.  
  
But those who knew Hilary and Pat Gordon also knew that, with them, nothing ever remained uneventful for long. And one quiet night, just two weeks after Pat had been ordered to bed, Hilary Gordon's life was forever changed.  
  
He came home cheerfully enough. Just that day, he and Parker had locked up a contract to design a new office building in downtown Vancouver. He couldn't wait to tell Pat. But his sister-in-law greeted him with news that dampened his spirits somewhat.  
  
"There is stew in the kitchen, Hilary. And quite good stew, if I do say so myself. William and I have already eaten and you wouldn't mind if we dashed over to Cinderleaf for the evening, would you?"  
  
In point of fact, Hilary did mind. He was almost as protective of his sister-in-law as he was of his wife. It was getting rather cold out and he didn't want Rae or William to get sick, too. But the years had taught him that it was useless to argue with the Gardiner women. Besides, she didn't really need his permission.  
  
"No, I don't mind at all. Just be careful."  
  
Rae smiled over Hilary's concern. It was almost like having Brook here sometimes. Almost. She continued, suddenly aware that she sounded very much like her own mother.  
  
"Pat is upstairs, sleeping. She's been asleep for the past half-hour and I didn't want to disturb her. You can wake her if you'd like. She still hasn't eaten her supper. But, if I were you, I'd let her sleep just a little bit longer. She's been very restless today, more than she usually is. I'll be back in a couple of hours, Hilary. We won't stay long."  
  
And with that, Rae disappeared into the twilight with a bundled up William in her arms. Hilary sighed. He had been hoping to tell Pat all about their new client. But he'd rather cut off his right arm than disturb her when she was finally getting some sleep. He knew for a fact that she hadn't slept well last night. His back had ached all day from sleeping in the small loveseat that was in the corner of their room. It was the only place he could get any rest and still be near Pat. She had tossed and turned so much that he had been awakened by the force of his body hitting the floor of their room.  
  
Hilary smiled slightly at that memory. Pat had kicked him out of bed and had never been any the wiser for it. It was good ammunition for when she was feeling better again. Tucking it away into the corners of his mind, he fixed himself a bowl of stew and sat down to eat.  
  
He finished quickly and began occupying his time by dangling a bit of yarn in front of Calamity, their Silver Bush cat. True to her name, she launched herself off the ground towards the yarn, only to catch the table cloth with her claws, yanking Hilary's empty bowl, empty glass, spoon, and a little ceramic vase to the floor with a resounding crash. Hilary groaned, but he had more sense than to blame Callie, as she was called for short. He should have known better than to try and play with her while she was so close to breakable things.  
  
Guilt assailed him, however, when he heard Pat calling. He had woken her up with his little shenanigans. He bounded up the steps two by two, as he always did, and opened the door to their room. But his apology died on his lips when Pat's eyes met his. There was no need for her to say a word.  
  
"But it's too soon. The baby can't be here for another month," he said, irrationally. Pat gave him a weak smile and tried to calm him with a bit of humor.  
  
"Hilary, darling, I'm afraid I won't be able to do this for a month," she whispered. Hilary came over to her and took her hand in his. Her weak attempt at humor had failed.  
  
"How long have you been having the pains?" he asked. Pat closed her eyes as another wave hit her and Hilary was surprised at his wife's strength as her hand tightened around his. She opened her eyes again and Hilary saw the hesitation in them.  
  
"Oh, just since you left this morning," she said meekly.  
  
"This morning? Pat, why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell Rae? How did you hide it from her?"  
  
Hilary's mind was swimming with questions, none of which Pat was particularly inclined to answer at the moment. There would be plenty of time for that later. Right now, she had to get him focused.  
  
"Hilary, please. I'll chat with you later. But, right now, I think our son is determined that today will be his birthday. Where's Rae?"  
  
"She and William went to Cinderleaf. I'll call over there right now."  
  
Hilary flew from the room and down the stairs. He picked up the phone and, partly to his relief, partly to his irritation, discovered that someone at Glen Cairn, with whom Pat and Hilary shared a party line, was on the line. He was relieved because it meant that the Bowens could come over right away. He was irritated because the person on the line was Keelin, talking to one of her new friends. It took a few moments before Hilary could even break into the fast-paced conversation. When he finally managed to catch Keelin's attention, however, she immediately said goodbye to her friend and gave the phone to her mother. Katie's voice was like an angel's to Hilary, who was beginning to become a panicky father-to-be as the enormity of the situation dawned on him gradually.  
  
"Hilary?" said the voice on the other end.  
  
"Katie! Katie, you've got to come over quick. Pat says the baby is coming."  
  
"Hilary, calm down. Ye'll only be upsettin' Patsy if ye start carryin' on. This is her first and I'm sure it'll be a while."  
  
"The pains started this morning, she said."  
  
On the other end, Hilary could tell that Katie was suddenly having to control her Irish temper.  
  
"Has she gone daft? What cud she be thinkin' av? Don't be worryin', Hilary. We're lavin' right away."  
  
And she was gone. Hilary hung up the phone, not bothering to ring Cinderleaf. He knew Katie would stop there to get Taryn anyway. Once again, he wished that Pat had agreed to have their child in a hospital as the doctor had suggested. But she had insisted that the baby be born at Wind Song.  
  
The doctor! How could he have forgotten to call the doctor? Hilary, who had been halfway back up the stairs, whirled around and rang the doctor at his home. Once he had been apprised of the situation, Hilary went back up the stairs, where he held Pat's hand until the doctor arrived and ordered him out of the room. Eyes blazing, Hilary refused at first. After all, he was the father and Pat was his wife. He wasn't going to let her go through this alone. Even Rae, Katie, and Taryn couldn't talk him into leaving. Only after reassuring words from Pat did Hilary depart, but he didn't leave before dropping a kiss on his wife's lips and saying a soft prayer that only she could hear.  
  
Downstairs, Hilary paced and paced. Parker would've been amused by his friend's behavior if he hadn't been trying to keep seven children happy. Luckily, Katie had possessed the presence of mind to call Laura, who arrived to take the rapidly tiring children back to Glen Cairn. At her insistence, Parker stayed with Hilary, offering what little support he could. He knew it was useless to tell Hilary not to worry. His own father had told him that when Katie was having their children. It had done nothing to ease his mind. So Parker remained silent unless Hilary asked him a question and his presence was really all Hilary required.  
  
It was dawn when Rae came down the stairs, her face drawn with weariness, but her violet eyes radiant with happiness. Hilary rushed to her.  
  
"Pat wants to see you," she said. It was all Hilary needed. His own weariness vanished and he was up the stairs in a flash. Rae smiled up after him and then answered Parker's unspoken question with a nod of her golden-brown head. Mother and baby were fine.  
  
The sight that met Hilary at the door of his room took his breath away. Pat lay propped up against their bed pillows. Her hair was a mess, her face betrayed the pains of the evening, but her amber eyes were filled with an emotion that Hilary had never seen in them before. To Hilary, she had never looked more beautiful. And, in her arms, she held a tiny little personage with wisps of dark brown hair. Hilary came closer and drew in his breath sharply when he saw his wife's eyes in the face of his child. Pat took his hand and placed it on the baby's. Hilary marveled at the perfection he was touching. And the words Pat spoke filled his eyes with tears.  
  
"Elizabeth Anne, this is your Daddy."  
  
A/N: Okay, that's it. More later. I was going to give the baby a middle name of Katherine, but then I remembered Pat's opinion of middle names. If she named her daughter after Katie, she would want it to be the first name. And to put Bets' name in the middle was simply unthinkable. Pat would never do that. Please read and review. 


	14. A Delightful Year, A Tragic End

A/N: I know, I know. I really am getting to a stopping point on this story. I promise. This chapter is really just an interim sort of thing. Kind of an introduction to the next one. Background information, if you will. It's short, but that is a good thing.  
  
Gufa: I had grammatical errors? That irritates me. Honestly, it does. I'm usually pretty picky about stuff like that. I promise I'll try to do better. Thanks for your review. You were the first one after I posted the three chapters and I was about to go nuts waiting for one (I hate waiting). I hope you like this chapter, too.  
  
Miri: In all honesty, I just thought that 'Elizabeth' and 'Anne' sounded good together. I always have thought that. Besides, I wanted to work the name 'Anne' in somewhere. Of course, it could only be spelled with an 'e'.  
  
Marzoog: No, I wasn't 'too' mean to them, but wait until you get to the end of THIS chapter. (laughs evilly). I'll try not to keep you hanging on for to long.  
  
Ruby Gillis: Did I make you cry? Good. It's just what you deserve after what you've put me through with your Emily and Juliet stories. I hear that, because of my tears over said stories, Kleenex stock has gone up eight points. Anyway, enough dilly-dallying. On with the story.  
  
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Christmas at Wind Song was a great triumph. The Island clan all arrived without serious incident and were charmed by Pat and Hilary's home. Everyone made much fuss over little Beth and Pat had more than a few wild moments of not even knowing where her child was. It wasn't uncommon for her to discover Beth in the arms of a nearby family member.  
  
The Gardiners and the Bowens clicked immediately, as Pat had known they would. Christmas Eve was spent at Glen Cairn, where Katie and Taryn had prepared a wonderful feast. Wind Song was the sight of the party on Christmas Day. Several presents were exchanged between the families, but Pat was sure that Rae's gift was the best. Just before dinner, Brook, who was not supposed to arrive until after the New Year, had arrived at the doorstep of Wind Song. It had been a very emotional moment for Rae, who unabashedly kissed her husband repeatedly in front of everyone.  
  
All told, it was a pleasant Christmas, marred only by the small argument between Pat and May. They had signed an armed truce, but May made the mistake, as she was so apt to do, of putting herself in charge. This was simply not to be borne by Pat who was, first and foremost, mistress of Wind Song. She let May know that in so many words and had been astonished when May apologized meekly only a few minutes later. May had never apologized before. It gave Pat something new to think about. Sid was never told about the argument, for which Pat was grateful.  
  
And then it was over. The Gardiners left Wind Song right after the New Year. Rae and Brook found a little house in town for temporary residence at the end of January. It was a strange feeling, Pat discovered, to suddenly be alone in the house with Hilary and Beth. Of course, strange didn't necessarily mean unpleasant. She rather enjoyed the moments of solitude when Hilary was at work and Beth was asleep. But, most of all, she liked the evenings after dinner. Their little family would gather in Hilary's study and simply enjoy each other's company.  
  
Pat hadn't thought such a thing possible, but the birth of little Beth had brought her and Hilary even closer together. It hadn't taken long for Hilary to be wrapped around his daughter's tiny finger. Pat found a secret joy in simply watching the two of them together. They were her whole world and she found it impossible to imagine life without either one of them.  
  
The months went by and winter gave way to spring which, in turn, made way for summer. Beth grew by leaps and bounds and Pat reveled in the time with her daughter. The summer brought lots of work for the Bowen, Gordon, and Hamilton clans. Glen Cairn was being made ready for it's seventh resident, whose coming was set for early fall. And Parker and Hilary were building Brook and Rae's home as fast as they could. Little William was to be a big brother by the end of the year.  
  
So Pat, in her spare time, could often be found making clothes for either her daughter or the daughters that she claimed Katie and Rae were having. Hilary found great fun in this and had informed Parker and Brook to get ready for more sons. After all, Pat had insisted that Beth was going to be a boy. Since she said these would be girls, it was only natural that Katie and Rae would have boys.  
  
It didn't help matters any when Sid called in early summer to inform his sister that he had a brand new baby daughter. Pat had said May would have a boy. Hilary's teasing was relentless after that and he drove his wife quite wild. But the joy in Sid's voice when he had told Pat of Victoria Margaret's birth more than made up for her injured pride.  
  
Pat was avenged when Parker and Katie welcomed Laurel Eileen to their family in September. And the tables were finally turned when Leslie Patricia Hamilton was born in November. Hilary let his wife crow over him, confident that he would be provided with more ammunition at some point in their married life.  
  
There had been talk of going back to the Island for Christmas that year, but Pat and Hilary decided against it. Beth had already been sick once that winter and Pat wasn't taking any chances. Besides, Pat had discovered, to her eternal joy, that Beth would have a little brother or sister by the end of next summer.  
  
So Christmas was spent in Vancouver and a merry time was had by all. This year, Christmas Day was spent at Rae and Brook's new home. Everyone helped with the preparations and the result was nothing short of spectacular. Laura and her family joined them as well, making for an even more chaotic and utterly festive event. As she was helping to clear away the dinner dishes, Pat wondered if life could get any better than this.  
  
She swept into the kitchen and put the dishes in the sink, then turned to go and get some more. But Pat was not fated to help with any more dishes that day. In truth, no one was. On her way out of the kitchen, Pat heard the phone ringing. She called into the dining room to Rae.  
  
"I've got it, Rae!"  
  
Pat picked up the receiver, sure that it was the family at the Bay Shore calling to wish them a merry Christmas.  
  
"Merry Christmas!" she exclaimed into the phone. There was silence at the other end then-  
  
"Pat?"  
  
It was father. But, what was wrong with his voice? The smile that had been on Pat's face quickly faded.  
  
"What's the matter, Dad?" she asked, her thoughts straying quickly to her mother.  
  
"Pat, there's been an accident."  
  
She listened in silence for a while, her face growing more serious by the minute. She put the receiver down and began to make her way to the door to call for Rae, but she never made it. Hilary found her moments later on the kitchen floor, her face white as a sheet.  
  
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A/N: What a cruel place to stop! But I'm in a cruel mood, it seems. If you've lost track by now, the Bowen family now has five children. Keelin, David, Robert, Bryson, and Laurel, in that order. I'll try to update soon.  
  
Sorry this chapter was such a whirlwind, but I needed to prod it along. After all, L.M. Montgomery sometimes covered eleven years or more in her books. 


	15. One is Taken

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Pat felt panic begin to seize her again and she willed it away. It wasn't good for the baby for her to be in such an emotional state.  
  
It seemed an eternity to Pat since she had opened her eyes to see the very worried faces of her husband and friends. In fact, it had only been yesterday. She related to them what Dad had told her and Rae simply crumpled in her husband's arms. Pat and Hilary had gone home to Wind Song immediately where Pat had begun to pack.  
  
Her decision to leave had almost started an argument, but Hilary had seen that he was being overprotective quickly. He had helped her pack and then made all the arrangements for immediate travel. Rae was not so lucky. Leslie was too young to be without her mother for long and the doctor advised against such a tiny baby traveling such a long distance in the cold weather. Pat had promised to call her as soon as she arrived at the Bay Shore farm.  
  
The only comfort to Pat was that Hilary and Beth would join her in a few days. Hilary couldn't leave right away, but he promised her that he would be in Silverbridge as soon as possible.  
  
She felt as if the train was moving unbelievably slow and had the urge to take control of the engine herself. What ridiculous thoughts popped into one's mind when one was upset. Try as she might, Pat could not take her mind off the situation that awaited her on the Island. Even now, Dad's words echoed in her mind like a broken record.  
  
".road was icy. Sid never saw the other car until it was too late. ..both in the hospital..serious condition .come as soon as you can."  
  
Pat's mind latched onto the one good thing about this whole tragic event. Victoria had not been in the car with Sid and May. She had stayed at the Bay Shore farm with her grandparents while her parents had gone back to their house for some forgotten packages.  
  
Forgotten packages! Pat could not help giving a bitter laugh, not caring what the other people in the car thought. Because of forgotten packages, her brother and his wife were now lying in the hospital in Silverbridge. No one knew if they would live. Both were unconscious. All because of forgotten packages.  
  
In spite of her morose thoughts, Pat found, to her surprise, that she was able to sleep a little. When she disembarked from the train, her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten anything since that morning. In point of fact, she had skipped lunch altogether. This made her feel even worse. What kind of mother was she? This little unborn child of hers was being neglected terribly. Pat found a little diner and ate a rather satisfactory meal, then trudged along to catch the ferry to the Island. On a normal trip, she would have stayed overnight somewhere along the way, but she felt a horrible rush to get to Sid.  
  
Fred met her when she got off the ferry and they went the rest of the way by car. Dad and Mother hadn't left the hospital since the accident, he informed her. Winnie was at the Bay Shore farm. She and Enid were taking turns watching each other's children. Pat took all this in, feeling as if she must be dreaming. Sid in the hospital! May in the hospital. Nothing made sense to her.  
  
When she realized Fred was taking her to the Bay Shore farm, she protested vehemently. Fred tried to point out that she would only be able to stay in the hospital waiting room with her parents. It was too late to see Sid or May. But Pat was having none of it. Fred, being married to Winnie, understood the determination and stubbornness of the Gardiner women and so gave in. He dropped Pat off at the hospital with the promise to phone both Hilary and Rae when he got back to the Bay Shore farm.  
  
Pat entered the hospital, not even realizing what a sight she was. Her dress was wrinkled, her hair mussed, and her makeup smudged here and there from the times she had wiped away tears, determined not to cry. She must be strong. For Mother's sake.  
  
She was directed to the waiting room. Several people were there, but not all for Sid and May. In her search for her parents, Pat nearly missed seeing Mrs. Binnie, who's shoulders were shaking with sobs as she sat in her corner. Trix, May's younger sister, sat next to her, trying desperately to calm her mother. Pat walked past them, continuing in her quest. There would be time for talks with Mrs. Binnie later.  
  
Dad and Mother were sitting in the opposite corner. Dad held Mother's hand, absently stroking it. His eyes were red and rather puffy. Mother looked serene and calm. But then, Mother always looked like that. If Pat had not been an observant person, she would have missed the fear and panic that were hidden behind Mother's eyes. She hurried to them, determined not to cry. They needed her strength.  
  
"I came as soon as I could," she heard herself say. Was that her voice? It sounded so strange, so distant.  
  
Long Alec looked up in amazement at his daughter. He hadn't expected her to come right to the hospital. But, then again, he probably should have. Mother managed a weak smile that nearly broke Pat's heart.  
  
"I'm glad you came, Pat," she said in a small voice. Pat took the chair on the other side of her mother and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Is there any change?" she asked, her voice still containing that same strange tone. Long Alec shook his head.  
  
"We can't get a word out of anyone," he said. "The last doctor we talked to was in here almost six hours ago. The nurses won't say a thing and the doctors are all to busy to stop for thirty seconds and tell us what's happening with our son."  
  
Pat was surprised at the ferocity in her father's voice. But it made her angry, too, to know that her parents and the Binnies had been waiting so long without a word of how Sid and May were doing. Finally, she had a purpose. She stood back up, smoothed out her skirt and messed with her hair a little.  
  
"I'll be right back," she told her parents. Mother nodded, Dad said nothing. He just stared straight ahead with unseeing blue eyes. Pat made her way back towards the door of the waiting room, but she was stopped by Trix.  
  
"Pat! Oh, Pat, isn't it awful? Poor Ma is nearly beside herself. How can the doctors ignore us like this? Why can't they tell us what's going on?"  
  
Pat thought for a moment she would have to keep Trix from going into hysterics, but the young woman managed to calm herself down. Despite her dislike for the Binnie clan in general, Pat felt it her duty to reassure Trix. She must, after all, love May just as much as Pat loved Sid.  
  
"I promise, Trix, I will find out what's going on with Sid and May. I won't show myself in this room again until I have some answers. Go sit with your mother. She needs you right now."  
  
Ordinarily, Trix would've been angered by Pat telling her what to do. But she went meekly, leaving Pat to find a doctor, or a nurse. Anyone who would tell her what was going on. She began at the front desk. The receptionist was friendly enough, but in a haughty sort of way that Pat found extremely irritating. She looked bedraggled Pat up and down appraisingly, then finally spoke.  
  
"May I help you?"  
  
"Yes. My brother and his wife were brought in yesterday morning. Sid and May Gardiner."  
  
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but visiting hours are over. You're welcome to stay in our waiting room. I believe there are some family members in there."  
  
"I've been in the waiting room already. I want to know what the situation is with my brother and his wife."  
  
"I'm afraid I don't have any information like that. You'll have to speak with one of the nurses."  
  
Before Pat could protest, the woman picked up her phone and called one of the nurses out to the front desk. The nurse appeared in fairly short order and looked at Pat in the same manner as the receptionist.  
  
"May I help you?"  
  
"I need information concerning my brother and his wife. Sid and May Gardiner? They were brought in yesterday morning after an accident and my family has had no word on their condition for some time now."  
  
"I'm afraid I don't know too much about them. You see, they're not in my area of the hospital. I have heard about the accident, though."  
  
"Who's area of the hospital are they in?" asked Pat, her patience wearing very, very thin. Any moment, she knew, she would snap.  
  
"Nancy's area. But she's helping Dr. Allan right now with another patient. And her junior nurses are all busy as well."  
  
"Who's the doctor in charge of my brother and his wife?"  
  
"Dr. Lawrence. But he's not here right now. His shift is over. Dr. Stanley has helped him with the case, though."  
  
"Dr. Stanley, you say? He'll do just fine. I'd like to speak with him."  
  
"I'm sorry, but Dr. Stanley is very busy. If you'll just return to the waiting room, I'll tell him that you need to see him."  
  
"No. I am standing right here until Dr. Stanley comes to speak with me. You will go get him, please."  
  
The nurse was offended by Pat's imperious tone, but something in those amber eyes made her believe that her life would be made much easier if she just went to get Dr. Stanley. She said not a word, but simply nodded and walked away. Pat concentrated her stare on the receptionist, who had been listening to the conversation with a great deal of interest, but now looked away quickly.  
  
Pat didn't wait for long. The nurse returned with a doctor who seemed to be about Pat's age. He was obviously irritated that he had been disturbed, but he spoke politely.  
  
"May I help you?"  
  
Never in her life had Pat grown so tired of four words. Her patience was gone. She was tired, she was hungry, and she was worried. Her only thoughts were of her brother and she could not keep back the sharp retort.  
  
"I'm sure you may," she replied. "The real question is WILL you help me? If it's not too much trouble, I would like to know what the situation is with Sid and May Gardiner."  
  
At Pat's tone, Dr. Stanley immediately lost his condescending manner. This was a woman who meant business.  
  
"I'm afraid there has been no change, Miss."  
  
"It's Mrs. Gordon. And no change means?"  
  
"They're both still in serious condition. Neither have shown signs of coming out of the comas they are in. Mr. Gardiner is a bit more stable than his wife, but, other than that, things are the same as when they were brought in yesterday."  
  
"I'm curious, Dr. Stanley. How long did it take you to say that?"  
  
Dr. Stanley was taken aback by the odd question. What was this woman trying to say? He shrugged as he answered.  
  
"About twenty or thirty seconds, I suppose."  
  
"Are you married?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Any children?"  
  
"Yes, two."  
  
"Humor me, Dr. Stanley, and use your imagination for a moment. Imagine that one of your children was injured and you took them to the hospital. For six hours, you didn't hear a word about your child. No one told you anything. For six hours, you were left to your own devices, assuming the worst, praying for the best. Tell me, Dr. Stanley, does this thought appeal to you?"  
  
"No, Mrs. Gordon, it doesn't."  
  
"It doesn't appeal to my parents, either. Nor does it appeal to May's family. The next time you have a case like this, Dr. Stanley, I hope you remember our little chat and treat the family of that patient better than you have treated mine. Now, I expect updates every hour on the hour, without fail. I don't care if the situation hasn't changed. Families have a right to know even when there's been no change. At least it spares them the agony of wondering. If you're too busy, have the decency to send someone with the word. Your patients are not the only ones affected by your actions."  
  
Pat did not wait for a reply, but returned to the waiting room with the news Dr. Stanley had given her. It did little to soothe the two families, but, as Pat had said, at least they knew something. Dr. Stanley did what was asked of him and kept the Gardiners and Binnies updated. Mother convinced Pat to go back to the Bay Shore and get some sleep.  
  
Her sleep was fitful, but it rested her a little, at least. As soon as she awoke, Pat called Rae and Hilary. She stayed with the children while Winnie and Enid went to the hospital. It was the next night before she was able to get back to the hospital and her parents. She took them some food and fresh clothes. Arriving just before visiting hours were over, Pat was able to sneak a few minutes with Sid. She really said nothing, just held his hand, trying to will strength into his body. Mother and Dad came in and Pat left Sid's room. She started to pass the room May was in, but thought better of it and went in. No one was in there. Trix and Olive had managed to get their mother home for some rest.  
  
Pat approached the bed quietly. She felt guilty, but didn't know why. It was no secret to anyone that Pat and May had never gotten along. But never, never had Pat wished this upon her. She took May's hand and stood silently until Dr. Stanley arrived. He cautiously informed her that visiting hours had ended. In spite of herself, Pat couldn't keep back the smile. The poor man was afraid of her. In truth, she was rather ashamed of some of the things she had said to him the night before. He was surprised when she left the room meekly and returned to the waiting room.  
  
She returned to find that Dad had finally been able to convince Mother to go home and get some real sleep. Trix was trying to convince Mrs. Binnie to do the same. Pat, though there was no love lost between her and Mrs. Binnie, tried to help Trix with her mother. But everyone froze when Dr. Stanley came into the room. He had just been in there, so there was obviously a change in either Sid or May to warrant another visit so soon.  
  
Later on, Pat reflected that it must be terrible to be a doctor sometimes. She never forgot the look in the young man's eyes as he spoke the words that he would probably say several more times in his career, only with a few minor changes.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Binnie."  
  
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A/N: Okay, that's it for now. As you can see, I found my disk. Yay! I hope to write more soon and I do apologize for keeping all of you waiting for so long. The muses are fickle creatures. 


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